


what i’ll do just to get back in her arms

by gottabewhatomorrowneeds



Series: my way home is through you [2]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), Killjoys: National Anthem, The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Analog Wars, Child Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Helium Wars, Implied Sexual Content, Misgendering, Nonbinary Party Poison (Danger Days), Other, Tags May Change, Trans Kobra Kid (Danger Days), Transphobia, War, Worldbuilding, and how they intertwine, basically this is. Helena and mike & the girls lives, everyone is here just not enough to tag, fucking with the lore......, i call the girls mom Helena bc she deserves a name, its mostly not intentional tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 41,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25389958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gottabewhatomorrowneeds/pseuds/gottabewhatomorrowneeds
Summary: Helena and Mike Milligram’s love sparks within a war, and it will die creating the weapon to end it: a bomb.
Relationships: Mike Milligram/The Girl’s Mom (Fabulous Killjoys), Party Poison (Danger Days)/The Girl’s Mom (Fabulous Killjoys)
Series: my way home is through you [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1818130
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	what i’ll do just to get back in her arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helena serves in a war that preludes her birth. She finds love in the midst of hate, and soon finds herself facing a fate worse than death.
> 
> You have to speak up for what you believe in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELENA IS THE GIRLS MOM FYI

Her name was Helena.

It was the name she was born with, the name her mother gifted her when she was born, the name her father sang to her with lullabies to get her to fall asleep when her night times were filled with shadows of demons. She was named after someone’s grandmother, if she remembered correctly. She didn’t know whose- she wasn’t able to stick around in Battery City long enough to find out.

The first seventeen years of her life weren’t truly noteworthy. She was born in 1992, right during the beginning portion of the long-standing Helium Wars. She spent her elementary days learning about pig bombs and learning how to hide under her desk in the case of one being dropped on her school. Thankfully, the alarms never blazed while she was at school, but she’s had friends who were less fortunate than her.

She spends her middle school years learning how to sew uniforms for the people on the frontlines. Her mother and her “volunteer” (after being directed by BLi to) at a local hospital to sew the uniforms of the soldiers. They take the black fabrics from the corpses of the soldiers that perish long and suffering deaths within the hospital and sew those scraps into new uniforms for the fresh recruits.

Sources have slowly become scarcer and scarcer. In a few of her history classes, before history became controlled by BLi, before those stories of old her parents would whisper to her for bedtime stories faded out of fear of being heard, before BLi systematically altered the past to fit their ideals, she heard stories about the Great Depression. She has long since come to realize that they were now in the midst of yet another depression, barely seventy years after the first.

She spends her middle school years starving. Her family tries to provide as best they can. Her mother takes up every single odd job she can finally scrounge while her father serves in a war she doesn’t understand why it happened. Her father becomes one of the soldiers she sews a uniform for, and she hand delivers that very same uniform to him the day before he is shipped out to the front lines. It will be the last time she ever sees him.

She spends her middle school years plagued with anxiety. At eleven, she sends her father off to war with the uniform she sewed through the fabrics plucked off the bloodied and mangled skin of those unfortunate soldiers who were drafted in. At eleven, she manages to make a few dollars stealing supplies from the nurses and selling them on the streets. At eleven, she learns how to survive without her father and her mother, who is too busy trying so desperately to keep their house and their clothes and them decently fed.

But too much money is spent on war. Crops fail. Food skyrockets in price, fabrics become a new luxury, and Helena and her mother find themselves selling their house and their clothes and most of their meagre possessions by the time she turns twelve.

But BLi, in all their false generosity, offers her and her mother a tiny apartment closer to the hospital. BLi wants to improve its public image and has been shoving people into the new apartments they’ve been having young boys too young to serve in the war build until they can be handed a uniform and sent to die. So she lives in that stuffy white apartment where so many other poor and tired and sickly would-be homeless people live. It’s a bit before it would be called the Lobby, and a little more before it gets called the Neon District.

She continues to sew and sew and sew until she has pricked her fingers so much they no longer bleed, until her fingertips have become nearly numb, until all the fabric in the world seems to have been used up as more and more and more soldiers are sent to die. But she still diligently sits in that hospital basement with so many other little girls with a rumbling stomach and sews and sews because there are cameras all over the place and if she stops, she knows something nasty will happen to her. 

(She watched it before. A little girl named Matilda stopped sewing because she couldn’t feel her arm anymore. A couple of men in white took her. Helena hasn’t seen her since.)

She sews and sews. It’s not a job, no one gets paid, and yet they are still forced to come here and finish their work. She saves up all the metal in her house to donate to BLi so they can repurpose it into weapons. She “donates” (a mandatory tax at this point) a chunk of her father’s hard-earned paycheck (blood money) to BLi’s war funds. 

She makes a few friends with some of the other girls in the basement. Because it’s only full of little girls- all the little boys are learning how to fight, how to die, because the war hasn’t become desperate enough for the government to let go of their sexism quite yet. She can’t remember the last time she saw a boy in her classroom. Then again, school keeps getting shorter and shorter with every year as materials and people able to teach keep disappearing.

She makes friends. She has to, to pass the time, to ignore the throb in her fingers, ignore what happened to Matilda and so many others, ignore the bloodstains in the fabric she’s sewing, ignore the moans of the men dying above her. She talks and talks and talks to remove the suffocating silence from the basement and the awful groans of those poor soldiers who weren’t blessed with a speedy death.

Most girls ignore her. They’re busy trying to process everything that’s happening. A lot of them are even younger than her. Many of them have lost brothers and fathers and friends and other family members. They’re mourning. 

Soon enough, Helena finds herself doing the same.

One day, before she heads to work to sew even more uniforms, she happens to open the mailbox. She hasn’t seen her mother in days, busy doing god knows what sorts of work to keep as much food on the table as possible. Which means Helena’s tasked with doing every household chore she can. She doesn’t hate her mother, she doesn’t resent her, but she is perpetually tired all the time now from carrying the brunt of the household work.

So she opens the rusty mailbox that they really should have sold the metal from long ago and finds a few letters. They’ve become a bit scarce, with the exception of bills and a few straggling advertisements bent on snatching the last of her few pennies. Most of them have been for medication, though she never reads them much, just tosses them in the fire for warmth instead.

This letter isn’t a bill nor an advertisement. It’s an official letter from BLi, crisp and pale white. It’s different from the money that gets sent from her father’s checks.

She rips it open. Her fingers are shaking- they haven’t been steady in years. Were they ever steady?

She reads the letter.

She reads it again.

She blinks, sets the letter on top of the mailbox. She wipes her sweaty palms on her ratty dress. She picks up the letter and reads it again. 

Her father is dead.

They don’t know what killed him. They don’t care. They had to take his dog tags and remelt them to make more. He’s already been buried in a nameless grave too far for them to ever visit. He’s dead, gone. 

She checks the date. Her stomach churns.

Three weeks ago.

Her father has been dead for three weeks and she didn’t even know.

And the worst part of this, the worst part about all of this, is that it’s not a sense of mourning that rises within her after reading this. She does not feel despair for her terribly young father and his untimely, meaningless demise. No, she is focused on the fact that now that he is dead, they will have no more money being sent to them. His checks are gone.

It sickens her to the core. But she has become so detached, so focused on surviving that she can’t even muster up a tear for her own father. All she can think about is how tears will be a waste of water, how she has to conserve as much as possible now that they don’t have that extra cash, as if they haven’t been trying to make something out of nothing already.

She is thirteen when her father dies. She is thirteen when she finally, finally understands what exactly this war is that’s waging so fiercely. She finally understands.

It is completely meaningless.

What did her father die for? What did he die for? She doesn’t even know. She can’t even remember what the fuck this war started over. Money, special materials, oil, precious gems? She doesn’t fucking know.

She wonders if her father did.

She shouldn’t waste paper. Every scrap helps stave off the frost of the winter they’re slipping into. Yet her heart has already frozen over, her skin has already become that of ice. 

She rips up the letter. She stomps it into the ground, every scrap, scraping it across the cobblestone road.

And she moves on to sew another uniform to give to another soldier who will die in a mass grave with their dog tags snatched from their body, who will be a nameless corpse forgotten along with the literal millions of other comrades who succumb next to them.

-

The next four years mean nothing to her.

She tries so hard to stay cheerful. Her father is dead but she is not. She tries to stay kind and nice, if only for her mother, who is so desperate to keep her good, to keep her sweet. Helena doesn’t want to shatter the illusion of innocence for her mother.

She makes more friends with a few of the girls still sewing uniforms. There’s a few older than here, not many her age, and even fewer younger than her now. 

When she’s fourteen, something changes- women are getting drafted into the fight. When a girl turns eighteen, BLi is going to give her a gun and send her out with the rest of the soldiers.

When that happens, most of the girls in that basement disappear. She won’t see any of them ever again. She never hears any confirmation about their deaths, never learns what happened to Aisha who loved bubble gum, to Layla who wanted to sing, to Joan who wished to dance, to Eliza who wanted a family of her own someday. But she knows. She knows they’re dead.

The basement of children gets smaller, but the demands for uniforms keep increasing. They work harder and harder and Helena is so tired of working for free. But she will get snatched up by those strange men in white she’s been noticing increasing in frequency around the city if she stops. She knows, because that’s what happened to Matilda and Isabella and Rosa. 

BLi has been slowly increasing its security over Battery City. And by increasing the security, they’ve become obsessed with prying into everybody’s to make sure they are behaving like proper citizens. Men in white, which the public has become enamored with using the term Draculoids or Dracs, stalk the streets during all times of the day. 

The masks cover their eyes anyway, but she knows that if she was to look into the face of one, their eyes would be hollow.

Still, despite all these heightened protections from an evil Helena sometimes wonders if it’s existence is even real, people continue to die and disappear within the city. Those little girls she works with disappear, one by one, always after some sort of minor infraction, like refusing to come to the hospital that day or trying to sneak too many breaks in.

Suicide rates have skyrocketed as well. Helena can’t count how many of the people she knows turn to the afterlife instead of sticking around in this life. People are becoming horribly faithless in the present they are living in. 

A war that has been waging for many years before Helena was even born is still continuing with no end in sight. People have lost their brothers, fathers, uncles, and more to this wretched war, and now it’s spilling the blood of mothers and sisters and aunts. People are tired of losing their friends and family, they’re tired of living day to day fearing a nuclear bomb being dropped on them, they’re tired of starving and scraping by, they’re tired of just surviving. 

So they’re beginning to drop like flies, like the soldiers crumbling outside the city. People are sick of this life that isn’t a life, sick of living without really living. 

Helena feels a deep remorse for them, but also a deep empathy for those. Every day becomes more and more desolate as she sees her body turn to nothing but a lump of bones, as she seems to turn a bit more grey like the sky that hangs overhead. The sun continues to dim like the life in every person in this godforsaken city. She’s starting to understand why others have given up.

But BLi is desperate to stop this. It doesn’t reflect well that so many people are dying inside their non-occupied city. 

Medication is released into the city for people who can afford it. Antidepressants, simply described as happy pills. They make every fear and anxiety and desolate feeling disappear. They’ll bring you peace and a better day.

Helena doesn’t realise exactly what those pills are going to mean in a few years. She doesn’t realise how twisted those little white pills are going to become. After all, it was a genuine attempt by BLi to eradicate public fears. But they say all atrocities start with good intentions, and the events in years to come that start from this single event won’t prove the saying wrong.

But Helena doesn’t know what the future holds. She simply sees that the rich are able to afford these pills, and she sees the rest of her peers suffer. She sees her mother become more and more dismal and sees her friends become more and more miserable while those with money have their fears erased. 

She can’t stop anyone’s fears. She can’t erase them. But she tries her damnedest to be as nice and positive to those around her. She tries so fucking hard to lift up her tired mother’s spirit, to relieve the consant stress she’s put under from her three dubious jobs with even more dubious pay. She tries to offer friendship and compassion to the little girls forced to sew uniforms like her.

She makes a few friends, and she loses even more.

There’s a girl named Lola that she becomes particularly close to. She’s only a year older than she is, and for two years, the two remain side by side friends through the thick and thin of this bullshit world. They’re each other’s only constant, and when Lola turns seventeen, everything goes to fucking shit.

BLi is running out of soldiers. So instead of waiting for children to turn eighteen, they lower the age for the draft. Seventeen.

Helena sobs and sobs and sobs the day she hears that every seventeen year old is to report to the nearest recruiting station within the week of their birthday. Helena can’t even remember the last time she’d cried properly. She’s just been so focused on surviving that she became too detached to care, but now she cares way too much.

Helena sews Lola her uniform. She pricks her fingers way too many times while sewing, something she hasn’t done since she was thirteen. She knows the motions of making a uniform by now better than her own heart beat, but her hands are shaking far too much and her eyes are blurring with tears. A bit of the blood on the uniform is hers this time.

Helena stays over at Lola’s the day before she’s due to go to the recruiting station, before she gets handed a rusty gun and given a day of training before getting sent to the warzone. The day before she has to let go of the first person she’s let herself love in a very long time. The first person who ever felt like a real part of her family, who felt like her real family.

They lay in bed together, Helena latched on to her. She wants to remember every single thing she can about her. Her strawberry red hair that was almost pink. Her freckled skin. Her uneven eyes. She has to make sure to absorb everything she can after wasting so much fucking time with her.

“Helena,” she whispers, her voice soft. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.” Always. How many secrets have they whispered to each other that would have gotten them killed?

“I don’t know how to phrase this properly. I’m not… I’m not a girl.”

Helena shifts to stare her in the eyes. “I don’t understand?”

“I mean, I was born a girl. Like, my birth certificate and shit says I’m a girl, but I don’t feel like a girl. I don’t think I’m a girl.”

Helena tries to take this in. “So do you… feel like a boy?”

“Not really. I don’t feel like a boy or a girl.” There’s something sad in her eyes as she whispers to her. “Have you ever heard of the word transgender?”

“No?”

“Ah. I read it in one of those pre-war magazines a while back. I’m gonna bet BLi is trying to hide the resistance of it in order to hone their perfect world.” She shakes her head. “Anyway, it means this: it refers to someone who’s sex doesn’t match the gender they think they should have. Like, a boy who was assigned being a boy at birth thinks he should be a girl. Or me, who was a girl, who thinks she should be neither. Does that make sense?”

Helena thinks over her words a few times. It takes her brain a little to process it, but slowly, she finds herself nodding. “Yeah, I think it does. So you’re transgender?”

“Yes. And there’s a specific word for my gender. Nonbinary.”

Helena repeats it, tasting the word. “What’s that mean?”

“I just mean I’m not a girl or a boy.”

“I see.” She hums, thinking. “If you’re not a girl, does that mean you don’t want me to call you by your name? Do you want a new name?”

Her eyes light up. She leans towards Helena and pulls her into her arms. “You catch on fast. I think I want to be called Frankie.”

“Sure thing, Frankie.”

“You’re wonderful.” She sighs. “Do you know why I’m telling you this?”

“Tell me.”

“I want you to understand, really understand that not everything and everyone is as it seems. Question everything you can- rules, gender, conformity, everything. You might find yourself comfortable in your own skin, and you might not. But I want you to test everything. I want you to realise there is no set normal.” She grabs Helena’s hand. “I know you’re not going to understand everything and what exactly I mean right now. And that's fine. But just promise me this, okay? Never become complacent. Never forget that there are people like me in this world.”

“I swear.”

Frankie smiles. She closes her eyes. “You’re a good person, Helena. When I say change yourself, don’t change that. Don’t let them take the light behind your eyes.”

Helena watches Frankie get deployed with Frankie’s mother. 

Twelve weeks later, her mother hands her a crisp, white envelope. It’s already been opened, rather carefully, so all she has to do is slip the letter out. She already knows what this means, she already knows yet she still forces herself to read it, just like she did when she was thirteen and was reading the letter of her father’s death.

She wishes she was surprised. She wishes she could feel something in her heart other than this festering ice and impassive apathy. Yet she knew the day she sent Frankie off to war, the day she watched her father leave, kissing the top of her head before disappearing over the horizon, that she was sending them both to a death sentence.

She slips the letter back inside. She’s thankful Frankie’s mother still has enough feelings in her to cry, and she cries for the both of them.

Frankie died eight weeks into service. She died with the wrong name wrapped around her neck, and then died nameless. She’s in another mass grave, with countless others who could be just like her.

Helena can’t bring herself to cry, but that day is when she feels the ice within her thaw a bit. The licking tendrils of fire tickle at her heart. Rage begins to boil her blood, turning her frozen indifference to the fate she’s about to receive herself into an unyielding, violent fury.

-

The next year, Helena turns seventeen.

War was always an eventuality in her eyes. She’s dreamt of dying on the battlefield as a nameless soldier since she was eleven. She’s almost resigned herself to dying a violent and bloody death on a stretch of land that means nothing to her and for a war that no longer has any real meaning for those leading it and those fighting it.

She’s spent enough time around that awful hospital to see that a quick death is the best she can hope for during that war. She hopes it’s instant, she hopes she won't have time to grapple with her mortality and a god she isn’t sure she believes in, no time to reflect on her mistakes or time to agonize over the pain she’ll surely be in.

She just hopes, desperately, that it will be quick. That she won’t die from bleeding out next to the corpses of her peers. That she won’t die on that battlefield from an infection, that she won’t die slow and agonising. She hopes she doesn’t die in that awful hospital either, where the fluorescent lights trick you into believing it's the light of the after life calling for you. She just wants it to be over.

She’s fantasized a bit about miraculously dodging this draft. But she isn’t rich enough to pull such a move. And there’s nowhere for her to run to.

Besides, now she finally has a job. So even if she dies early on, her mother will get to squeeze at least a couple of pennies from her daughter’s corpse.

She turns seventeen in 2009. She sews her own uniform the night before she’s due to be deployed, the night before her mother will sob into her arms. Her hands are oddly steady as she stitches together the black fabrics. She sews her own costume to parade in for the next few weeks before her pitiful performance gets cancelled by a bullet or a grenade.

The day she leaves, her mother holds her close to her chest. She can’t remember the last time she’s seen her mother cry, and it’s been quite a while since she’s been hugged from her, too. She knows her mother’s been busy trying to provide for both of them, and knows that she really is just trying her best is this damning world.

Helena doesn’t hold a grudge against her mother, who’s even thinner than her, who feels so frail in her arms. She felt her mother sob into her chest, and she still wasn’t feeling very many emotions of her own. She’d resigned herself to this life, a long time ago, when she figured her father might’ve even had a chance of coming back alive.

She just kissed her mother’s cheek, whispered a soft thank you that didn’t encapsulate all the gratitude she had for her hard working mother, and then she pried herself out of her mother’s arms before her resolve decided to crumble.

She leaves her mother there on that crumbling street corner by their shoddy little apartment. It’s the last time she’ll ever see her mother, and she won’t ever forget her eyes as Helena walked away from her life.

-

She gets trained on how to use the rusty, scratched up gun she was handed for about three days before she was sent on the frontlines. That’s about all she learns, really- how to shoot the gun. Can she do it well? Absolutely not. Her hands shake way too much and she hasn’t had enough practice to be of real use.

But she’ll find plenty of targets out here.

There’s so many people now, bustling about during this war. It feels like the polar opposite of the ghost town Battery City seemed to be turning into. It’s loud and bright and every person still living seems keen on making as much noise as possible before their inevitable untimely demise. 

It’s a starch and drastic change from the life she’s known, and she can’ decide if she likes it or not. The people here aren’t afraid to speak what's on their minds, aren’t afraid to try and make a few friends and sing a few songs and share a few laughs before they get slaughtered. The soldiers here aren’t afraid to speak their mind, and BLi doesn’t care because Bli thinks, rightfully so, that they’ll all be dead in a few more days, so it doesn’t matter.

She hasn’t been there very long, still trying to adjust to this new and strange life. She tries to steer clear from her fellow soldiers as she navigates her life as a soldier, as a part of a battalion.

Her regiment is called the Black Parade. There’s nothing particularly interesting about them, just a couple dozens of soldiers shipped to the same barrack to die bloody deaths. They wear uniforms of black to hide the horrific amounts of blood that stain their jackets. It’s hard to tell whose blood is on them sometimes. She’s fairly certain the goal of wearing black uniforms was to disguise the amount of gore they would be causing. And it’s been working for quite a few of her peers. Plenty of her fellow soldiers don’t seem to care that they’re stealing the light out of people, that they’re taking souls and staining their own in shades of red.

There are not very many people who actually seem to be horrified by the literal war crimes they’re committing against the soldiers on the other side. Sure, there’s plenty of soldiers who hate it in the trenches, who don’t like killing, who would like to go home, who are afraid for their life, but they don’t see the way they’re brutalizing and dehumanizing the enemy. They want this war to end because they’re bored with killing people, because they’re afraid for their own lives, because they hate the food. They don’t care about the enemy.

There’s only a handful of people she’s been able to spy that actually seem to understand the horrors of the war they’re serving in.

Tommy is one of them. He’s an older man, who used to run a store near her house. He’s often called a greedy bastard by some of the other soldiers, not afraid to take whatever the hell he wants from others. But she’s come to realize he only takes from others to give to his half brother, Dr. Death Defying, who earned that name after surviving so many bomb raids people became convinced he couldn’t die. 

Sometimes, Tommy will help out this other kid who’s a few years older than Helena, Cherri Cola. He earned that name from collecting soda and bottle caps and fashioning them into bracelets. It’s a hobby he does to try to keep himself sane, though, with the shortage in rations, she’s beginning to notice bracelets made from grenade pins instead.

A woman named Hot Chimp also hangs around Tommy and Dr. D and Cherri Cola. Helena has no idea where that nickname came from, but she hasn’t learned a real name for her yet, either, so Helena will stick to calling her that. She’s a fiery woman who is dead set on surviving through this war so she can dismantle BLi brick by brick with her own bare hands. She’s just a few years older than Helena, no more so than Cherri, and Helena has a feeling she’s seen a lot of shit in just those years difference.

There’s another kid Helena’s age, someone named Show Pony. She doesn’t see them very often, as she’s become aware that they’re a spy sent to investigate and infiltrate bases of the enemy, but when they appear, they’re always loafing about with Hot Chimp and Cherri Cola and Tommy and Dr. D. They’re charming and flirtatious and have no qualms getting in people’s personal space. They’re pretty nice, though, and they’re very different from the sort of standoffish crowd that Hot Chimp and Cherri and the rest are more like.

They’re an interesting bunch, that’s for certain. But they’re some of the few people in this war that she’s seen recognize the terrors that they’re committing. She sees remorse on Cherri’s face every time he loads a gun; she sees grief in Hot Chimp’s eyes as she kills people younger than her; she sees Dr. D callout BLi for its hypocrisies; she sees Tommy’s hands shake just before he takes a shot as a sniper; she sees Show Pony quietly mourn their enemies and sometimes even bury them themself if no one else is willing. They feel things, more than just a simmering hatred, more than just a disdain towards this war, more than just rage. Because they know what they’ve done.

So Helena tries to get closer to them. She doesn’t really want to make friends, that’s not really the goal here. She just wants to keep herself surrounded by like-minded people so she doesn’t lose herself in this war. She wants to make sure she doesn’t lose her humanity and empathy and everything else she has that makes her human.

There aren’t very many people who seem to want to maintain their empathy. There are a few others like Show Pony and Dr. D and the rest, but Helena finds herself drifting towards them like a magnet.

There’s a person named Mad Gear, a strange Australian immigrant who’s been serving so long they’re beginning to go a bit crazy. She can tell they feel remorse for every kill they make, and yet they seem to take every opportunity they can to fire away at the enemy. 

They’ve teamed up with a droid named Missile Kid. He’s a bit calmer than Mad Gear, a bit more human than his friend. They’ve been fighting together ever since BLi first allowed droids to serve, and Helena knows that if anything happened to only one half of their team, all hell would break loose. Their humanity hinges on each other.

There are others like them, who’s humanity is slowly fading the colors in a well-worn shirt. They haven’t become desensitized, yet they aren’t quite empathetic to the people on the other side. She hopes to any god above she never finds herself drifting like them. 

Even if she finds herself loathing the enemy, even if she begins to find herself dehumanizing then, even if she becomes exactly what she hates, at least she knows what she is. She doesn’t want to see those people in pain and empathy for them but just not care. She doesn’t want to drift.

So she keeps to the sidelines a bit, simply watching, trying to find others who aren’t drifting, who are still sane in this insane war. She needs an anchor before she finds herself following in the steps of half-insane Mad Gear and quiet killer Missile Kid, and she hopes she can find that anchor in some of her fellow peers. Perhaps, in a potential friend.

So a few months into her life in the trenches, she finds herself becoming integrated in the group she’s admittedly been spying on a bit.

It’s Show Pony who makes the initiation, who makes the connection. Show Pony’s always excited to meet others their age, because even Cherri Cola, who’s the second youngest in that group, is still a few years older than them. With as much of an eye as she’s been keeping on them, she knows Show Pony’s been watching her too.

Of course, it’s a sad realisation to see people their own age in war alongside them. They’re both way too young for this life, filled with carnage and blood. But they’re in it, so they might as well make the most of it.

“You’re Helena, right?”

Show Pony appears next to her one morning, asking a simple question. They move with the same grace as a roller skater, fluid and light as they move in a strange circle around her. She almost feels like she’s being stalked by a shark. Show Pony is friendly and charismatic, but she knows there’s something dangerous lurking underneath- it’s why they’re such a good spy.

“That’s me,” she answers back, trying to swallow down the thick mush that she faintly remembers is supposed to taste like oatmeal. It doesn’t.

“I’m Show Pony.” They aren’t using they/them pronouns yet. They have another name she’s heard thrown at them like insults, a name gendered and very much unlike them. “You seem like you could use a friend. War is pretty lonely, hm?”

“Funny, to be alone while surrounded by so many people.”

“Can you call them people?” Pony’s smile doesn’t match their words. “Considering half of them are rotting corpses, and half of them have the mind of one.”

“What’s the difference between a corpse and a person?’

“That’s the question.” They shrug absently. “But I can tell you’re not a corpse. So why don’t you come join me and my friends for a little bit until we all become one?”

Helena does. She meets them all properly for the first time. Dr. D is kind but detached. Tommy is gruff but oddly affectionate. Hot Chimp is loud and becomes a great friend to her in all the years to follow. Cherri Cola is quiet and soft-spoken but has a big heart certainly not meant for the horrors of war. Show Pony remains like a little sibling to her despite the fact that they’re older than her.

They each have their own sort of wisdom to offer. Dr. D shows her how to use her voice. Tommy shows her generosity and the will to survive. Cherri Cola shows her how to stay anchored in this evil war. Hot Chimp teaches her how to be angry without causing harm to others. And Show Pony shows her how to be proud and loud and ambitious.

Helena doesn’t know if she can teach them anything. But she sticks around anyway, hoping she might be able to.

-

After a few weeks with them, Helena finally decides to ask the question that’s been on her mind. It’s interesting, seeing a culture having started during this war, one entirely different than Battery City. The people in these trenches have their own customs and beliefs. 

She’s hearing more and more stories about some deity named the Phoenix Witch. Cherri Cola is an avid believer in Her, and one day, Helena is going to pry him for more information. But for now, there’s one big question she wants answered before she tries to learn about superstition in the desert.

“What’s with all these nicknames?” Helena finally works up the nerve to ask. The only person besides her who doesn’t use a strange nickname is Tommy, and she’s not entirely convinced that’s even his real name.

“Whatcha mean?” Tommy asks, appearing both like he’s keenly interested and detached at the same time. She has no idea how he manages that look so well.

“You know, why do y’all go by, like, Show Pony or Hot Chimp or Dr. Death Defying or Mad Gear or whatever? I don’t even know half of your guys’ real names. So why do you guys use these weird nicknames?”

“A lot of people find themselves sort of... Separated from their civilian lives.” Dr. D hums, clearly thinking over the best way to explain this. “They don’t want to see their soldier self as their civilian self, because they’re two different people at this point. Your civilian self remains untouched by the crimes you’ve committed, and quite a few people would like to keep it that way. So they craft new identities for each other, to try to keep themselves from remembering or tainting their past self.”

“Their civilian selves remain in the past,” Cherri adds, quietly, “and to go back to the life they once lived is now an unattainable feat. So they develop a new life.”

“Or maybe they just didn’t like their name,” Show Pony suggests with a snarky grin, and Hot Chimp laughs a bit at that.

“It all depends on the person,” Hot Chimp offers. “It’s almost like a rite at this point. Are you thinking of going by a nickname? I hope you get something better than Hot Chimp.”

“The wearer doesn’t choose the name, the name chooses you,” Pony jives, ribbing Hot Chimp. “And in this case, it definitely wasn’t your choice.”

Dr. D gives Helena his attention. “But to restate Hot Chimp, do you plan on going by a nickname?”

“Not really.” Perhaps she simply hasn’t served as long as they have to warrant the appeal of one. The thing is, Helena doesn’t feel like she’s living two seperate lives. Her civilian self watched countless soldiers die from grotesque battle wounds. She’s heard their screams of pain and washed away their blood and sewn their uniforms. She can’t be disconnected from a war that shaped her entire childhood.

She doesn’t say any of that, of course. It’s a nuance that’s a bit too personal to share, for now. Instead, she simply says, “I rather like my name. And I don’t want to be stuck with something stupid.”

“What, like Show Pony?” Tommy jabs. Show Pony places a hand over their heart and dramatically draps themself over Hot Chimp. 

“I’ve been wounded!” they cry. “Friendly fire has slain your devilishly handsome comrade. Remember me as I am- gorgeous.”

“Yeah, those shots weren’t friendly,” Cherri mutters. Show Pony goes limp in Hot Chimp’s arms, pretending to die.

“We’ll see,” Dr, D states, almost ominously. “Like they said, sometimes the nickname chooses you. And maybe you’ll enjoy becoming a different person. This war is tainted in blood and soiled with evil, but there may be a garden in the midst of the seeds being sown in these very trenches.”

“English translation: war is bad, but maybe something good might happen from it, accidentally.” Tommy twirls his gun in his hand, lazily. “Agree to disagree, doc.”

“Who knows, maybe people will see that BLi is bad, that this war is meaningless, and we’ll be able to start a revolution?” Show Pony adds, practically leaping out of Hot Chimp’s arms. 

“Soon, we may be able to break free from these gilded shackles that chip at our souls,” Cherri states, staring blankly at the sky. “Salvation through damnation may be the future we shall find awaiting us.”

“Translation?” Hot Chimp leans on Cherri, flicking his arm. “Not all of us are super smart vocab nerds.”

“We might be able to break away from BLi’s oppression,” Helena states. “But we can only do that because of this war. The war might be the final straw.”

“Ah, you’re already speaking Cherri’s language!” Show Pony cackles. “Told y’all she was smart. Now we don’t need Tommy anymore.”

“Go ahead, kick me out. I’ll happily watch you all starve to death without me.”

“Harsh.”

It’s amazing to Helena that they can find time to banter in the middle of a warzone. Everyone has their coping mechanisms, she supposes. She hopes she’ll be able to loosen up around them enough to make stupid quips back. But for now, she’s content with listening and watching.

-

Learning the bizarre customs of the zones is taking some time. Helena’s beginning to understand a bit more every day why people seem keen on changing their names. And as she slaughters more and more people with her ever increasing accuracy, she begins to understand the disconnect many of her fellow soldiers are beginning to feel.

Still, there’s a shit ton of other things she’s still trying to get used to.

She never really realised there was a whole life outside of Battery City. She never learned much about the surrounding desert that encompasses all of the zones, and she certainly never learned that within the war, within these very trenches, there was an entire culture brewing under the surface.

It makes sense, she supposes, considering so many of these people have been fighting nearly their entire lives. There’s quite a few older people in her battalion, and not many young ones. Either the young people die quickly or they learn how to survive and grow older.

She’s faintly aware of the fact that there are people living within the zones as well, people who aren’t a part of the war. Neutrals are what most soldiers around here call them, although there are others who won’t hesitate to refer to them as desert rats. They live outside of the war and Battery City’s control, but they aren’t here to help either side.

Some of the culture she’s been trying to learn stems from them, and some of it was born through desperate soldiers trying to find ways to cope.

After a handful of months serving, Helena begins to pick up a few things. 

Admittedly, Helena still doesn’t really understand the command system. From what she gathers, there’s three types of people in these barracks: the soldiers, the exterminators, and the scarecrows. She’s only met one scarecrow thus far, and the only scarecrow she’s ever seen was Korse, who sort of acts as the leader of the entire Black Parade, and she’s pretty sure he also oversees other regiments in the area they’re fighting in. She doesn’t see him very often, considering he’s usually on the move between regiments.

The exterminators are less common. There’s only two that she’s familiar with- they’re named Crow Claws and Raven. They’re an older pair of adults who are also a romantic couple. She thinks they have a kid, but she’s still trying to work out the details about their personal lives. In any case, they act as the sort of commanders to the Black Parade, underneath Korse but still authoritative figures who give the call on what moves they should take.

The group of soldiers can actually be divided into two groups- actual soldiers, like Helena, and those who wear Dracula masks. They’re called Draculoids, but everyone calls them Dracs. They seem to work a lot differently than the regiment she’s in, and for the most part, they usually keep away from the Black Parade.

When one group of Dracs passes through camp under Korse’s supervision. Helena decides to prod about it. While they’re tearing away at the meagre food supplies they have for that evening, Helena tries to get Hot Chimp’s attention. “Hey, so what’s the big idea with all these Dracs?”

“Huh?”

“Like, why do they wear masks and stuff? They’re not like us.” She glances at the group of Dracs. “How come we don’t get to wear cool masks?”

“Trust me,” Hot Chimp begins, setting down her food, her voice becoming suddenly serious. “You don’t want to be those poor souls.”

“What? Why?”

“Those masks they wear literally steal people’s souls. You know in Battery City, they have a three strike system? If you make three mistakes, you get taken out of your home and relocated?”

“Yeah…” That’s what happened to Matilda and Isabella and Rosa. Too many mistakes, and BLi gets rid of you. In their utopia, there’s no room for error, for blemishes.

“You know what really happens to them? They get one of those masks shoved on their head and then BLi directs them into doing whatever they need- use them as soldiers or security guards or police or whatever.”

“Those masks take away the very thing that makes you you.” 

Dr. D appears to Helena’s left. Cherri and Show Pony are bickering a little ways away, and Show Pony is trying to wrestle an unimpressed Cherri. Tommy is watching them, an amused smile threatening to curl his lips.

“Your soul. They rip out your soul, and not even BLi knows where they go.” Dr. D sets a hand on Helena’s shoulders. “I pray to the Witch that will never happen to any of us. It’s a disgusting and inhuman process that leaves a person willing to bend to BLi’s will.”

“You need to stay vigilant,” Hot Chimp warns. “If you rebel too much under this war, BLi will Drac you, too. We get a lot more freedom than our civilian comrades, but BLi will put us in our place.”

Hot Chimp glances over at the group of Dracs. There’s a bitter expression on her face, a sick tiredness in her eyes as she gazes at the cloud of white. Helena knows there’s a story behind her eyes, but it’s not her place to ask. Perhaps another day,

“Keep your opinions quiet,” Dr. D lectures, his voice low. “Hot Chimp and Cherri and Pony and Tommy and I- we are your allies. But there are others who won’t hesitate to rat you out to BLi for a few minutes of false glory, for believing in a false system of righteousness. Keep your cards to yourself, if you’ll end up a mindless Drac, soulless and cursed by the Witch to roam this earth as a shell of a person.”

Helena’s blood is freezing. Despite sitting under the blaze of the sun, she feels goosebumps crawl up her skin. Isabella and Rosa and Matilda and doubtless other little girls and boys and children… her stomach could at the unfinished thought.

“I understand,” she finally whispers back.

Helena doesn’t like staying quiet. She doesn’t like keeping her opinions to herself. If she has something to say, she’s going to say it. She’s spent too much time in Battery City hoping her good behaviour would be her saving grace, hoping that by being a good little girl she could save her dad and her mom and Frankie and herself.

She asks questions. She says what’s on her mind now. She has a voice now, and people will listen to her, and she wants to use it.

But preaching against BLi is a death sentence. If Korse or even some of her peers decide that she’s a threat, she’ll be taken out. Her soul will get removed, and she’ll be a soulless, mindless soldier.

She’d rather keep her ability to think for herself.

“Smart move,” Dr. D states. 

“Are you gonna finish that?” Show Pony asks, leaning over Helena’s shoulder to pick up her ration bar. They snuck up on her while she was thinking. Cherri Cola’s hair is messed up and Show Pony has a purple bruise blooming on their cheek. She has a feeling that the fight favoured Cherri. 

“No.” She pushes their hand away from her face and laughs a bit as they stuff the entire thing in their mouth. It’s a bit hollow and not quite genuine, but no one seems to notice.

Cherri watches her, silently. But a word doesn’t pass between them as Show Pony decides to shift the conversation. Spilling out crumbs while they speak, they ask, “Hey, have you guys seen my shirt? The white one, not the one I’m wearing? I think someone stole it. Probably that kid, Glow Stick.”

-

Another battle has taken place. Soldiers lie in bloody messes in the ground around her, limbs splayed in unnatural positions, skin cold despite the desert heat. It’s a bit colder since the sun is only just lifting its weary head up and the sky has turned shades of red and orange.

Her uniform is a mess, caked in a new layer of sand and blood. Some of her hair is still smoking from a laser blast, but she can’t find it in herself to care. 

They ambushed an enemy battalion at the hint of dawn. Crow Claws lead the mission, and they snuck through the outskirts of zone five to attack the regiment stationed south of their own station. They were told to bring everything they own, because once they wipe out the enemy, they’re stealing this station for their own usage.

And the enemy had been wiped. It was a smaller regiment anyway, so it honestly wasn’t a fair fight, but there’s no such thing as fairness in war. The enemy went down without much fight, and they did try as hard as they could.

They don’t wear masks like the Dracs do. She could see their desperation to survive as she shot them dead, as they fired frantically back at them, missing most. There’s weren’t very many casualties on their side- everyone here is either bright eyed new or war hardened. They’re survivors or they’re rookies learning how to become one.

She doesn’t really move towards the rest of her battalion. There’s a few stray soldiers around her, making sure that the bodies are bodies. She hears a few more gunshots echo in the quiet air of twilight. She tries to ignore what they mean.

She stands there, surrounded by the corpses. They all look so fucking young, a few adults in their mid-life the outliers in the sea of young faces round with unshed baby fat. The sight of their youth makes her stomach curl, and she hates that she’s happy she can still feel this sickness in her.

“Do you want to help me?”

She glances to her left, her hands twitching towards her gun in her holster even though she recognises the drawl of that voice. Cherri Cola is at her side, hands filled with slider chains and metals shards that clink against each other in the breeze. She swallows her jitters and gives him a quizzical expression. 

“With what?”

“I’m trying to collect dog tags.” He holds up the chains and shakes them, emphasizing his words. “On either side. Just as many as we can get.”

“Oh, you’re one of the metal collectors, huh?” She tries her damnedest to not sound bitter.

“Hm? Oh, no, we’re not collecting these to chip back to BLi for recycling. No, that’s not it.” He begins to fidgets with a certain name tag. “No, I’m collecting this to hang on the memorial tree.”

“The memorial tree?”

“Oh, I’ll show you.” He slips a dog tag off the neck of the girl next to Helena. Her eyes are still open, staring unflinchingly into the sky. Cherri Cola is gentle as he rips the chain from her neck before quietly sliding her eyes shut. Cherri’s one of the few people she’s met who has such a deep respect for the dead. “So will you help me?”

She has nothing else to do at this moment except brood. “Sure.”

She yanks on every chain she can find. She reads every name she can, finding herself curious about the people she’s served with and against. It’s a blessing and a curse for these soldiers to no longer remain faceless and nameless, to have names to attach to unspoken stories, unfinished stories. She knows her dreams will be haunted with Jerimiahs and Johns and Brocks and Elijahs and Eloises and Joans and Teresas.

Still, she collects all that she can find. The chains become heavy in her hands as they begin to add up until not a single speck of a glimmer can be seen from the sea of corpses surrounding their new home. There are others around them, looting bodies for any goods they can get. She spies Show Pony snagging a shirt of the torso of a body, and Hot Chimp is by their side, trying to untie the boots.

No point in wasting resources, but the sight still makes her feel a bit nauseous.

“I guess we got all we could,” Cherri mumbles. “Not as many as I’d hoped, but the metal collector, Raven, had already started on his job.” He clenches the eta stings and glances at Helena. “Come on, I’ll show you the memorial tree. There should be one around here, a bit east. It’s going to be a bit of a walk, though.”

“I have time,” she simply answers.

Cherri leads the way, soundlessly, and Helena follows. Cherri isn’t exactly a chatty person- he only speaks when spoken to, and usually just listens in on conversations. Helena usually feels the need to fill the silence with some sort of chatter, but as she walks beside him, the urge isn’t quite there. She feels weighted by the somber air, and instead keeps her mouth sealed as they walk. It doesn’t feel right to chatter aimlessly, for some reason.

Cherri wasn’t kidding about it being a long walk. It feels like she’s been walking for about an hour when Cherri stops in his tracks and points towards the horizon. By now, the sun is raising high in the sky, and Helena can feel her stomach rumbling. “Look.”

It takes her a moment to spot it. Something glimmers in the distance, looking almost like a star in the night sky. Helena’s confusion only crescendos. “What is that?”

Cherri starts walking, and Helena follows after. “It’s the memorial tree.”

A few minutes later and Helena is standing at the base of one of the biggest Joshua trees she’s ever seen. It’s twisted and ancient and spiraled, and there's hundreds of branches reaching out from it. Dangling from each branch like Christmas ornaments are thousands and thousands of dog tags, sparkling in the summer sun. She reaches up for one, reading the name and the date it was issued.  
“We try to gather as many dog tags as we can and create our own little memorials for fallen soldiers.” Cherri begins to hang a few strings on a branch directly above his head. “We want to honor them, so we place dog tags on the biggest Joshua tree we can find. There’s a few main hot spots for memorial trees, and this is one of them. I have a few mapped out.”

Helena hooks a string on a branch, pensive. “Does BLi know about this?”

“Yes. They’ve tried to stop us, but people wouldn’t quit. People didn’t want the only shred of their identity to be refurbished into something new for another soldier. So BLi sometimes scours the desert in search of memorial trees. They usually don’t search father then zone three, though.”

They finish hanging up the dog tags, and they sit under the shade of the tree, trying to cool down from the blistering heat and rest from the long walk. They ought to be heading back soon, but Helena finds herself feeling a strange sort of peace, something she hasn’t felt in a while, so she doesn’t mention it. Instead, she asks a question on her mind. “You believe in the Phoenix Witch, right?”

“Resolutely.”

“Tell me about Her. About the mailboxes and stuff. I want to understand.”

“There’s not much real information about the Witch Herself. Some say that She was a soldier, just like us, that She was the very first casualty in the Helium Wars, and since She had no one to guide Her into the afterlife, She stuck around and decided to help others move on. Other people say She evolved from a crow, and others say She’s older than time himself. But Her origins don’t particularly matter, not to most. It’s Her actions that matter.

“Her goal is to guide the dead into the afterlife. However, She’s not the only one, and She doesn’t guide soldiers like us.” Helena gives him an odd look. “There’s another deity, named Mother War- Mother War deals specifically with the spirits of fallen soldiers, those who die in combat. She guides them into a different afterlife than the Phoenix Witch, one called the Black Parade. It’s a place for soldiers to get celebrated and loved and such.”

“Is that where the name of our battalion came from?”

“The Black Parade is the oldest regiment in this war. I think it’s more the other way around.” Cherri shrugs. “In any case, the souls that the Phoenix Witch deals with are called the rebels. The Witch guides people who escape into the desert to the afterlife. Those who want to destroy BLi but die too young to do so- the Witch gathers their souls and helps them move on. She’ll help anyone who dies in the desert, really- those who run away from the city to live here, those who have always lived here, neutrals, and even some of us soldiers. 

“To help guide us into the afterlife, She needs an important possession from the person who died. You place that item in a mailbox, and She’ll use it to guide their soul into the afterlife. We usually place Drac masks in there, since they’re souls are so fucked up from the mask, but any item usually works.”

“So Mother War delivers the souls of soldiers, and the Witch delivers the souls of anyone in the desert?”

“Yep. And Destroya will deliver and free the souls of droids, like Missile Kid.”

“So who will deliver the people in Battery City? The souls still lingering there?”

Cherri Cola stands up and wipes his pants. “I don’t think that saviour is here yet.”

He offers her a hand, and there’s a strange look in his eyes when he says,” But I have a feeling that will change.”

He glances towards the east. “Do you want to check out the mailbox? I have a letter I was planning on delivering- people will write letters to dead friends and family and put it in the mailbox so the Witch can deliver it to them, or to Mother War to give to them. If you want to write one, I won’t stop you, either.”

She thinks of her father and Frankie and those girls she used to sew with. She smiles, quietly. “That sounds nice.”

-

Helena isn’t sure where she stands, spiritually. She hears Cherri Cola preach about the Witch quite a bit as he teaches other people how to write letters and where mailboxes in each zone are. 

Missile Kid sometimes speaks about Destroya, though not often. He devoutely believes in the robot corpse in the zones, believing that it will come back to life one day to free the droids trapped in the city. Sometimes Helena will talk to them about it, though Mad Gear always lurks around when they talk.

Mother War gets brought up quite frequently. Most don’t believe in Her, believing that as soldiers, they’re much too damned to ever be saved. Show Pony and Tommy both share that opinion, whereas Dr. D believes resolutely in all things magic. Hot Chimp believes in an afterlife and in magic, but doesn’t so much believe in gods, or at least, not these specific ones.

Helena doesn’t know how she feels about the concept of a god, let alone many of them. So she’ll write letters with Cherri Cola sometimes, though it's more therapeutic that it is in the hopes it will actually reach her friends or family. 

It doesn’t really matter what she believes in. Someday soon, she’ll end up a corpse in this war and she’ll find out who was right after all. 

But for now, she contents herself to learning more about zone religion and writes more letters.

-

Helena’s only been around for about six months now, but she’s been picking up on a few things. For starters, most soldiers don’t make it past six months.

She’s also noticed Scarecrow Korse doesn’t come around very often, about once a month. He’s usually there to check in on them, making sure everyone is acting accordingly, that supplies are in good condition, that Crow Claws and Raven are doing an optimal job at leading the squadron. Then he’ll disappear for a few weeks before checking in again.

One day, Korse breaks that pattern.

A week after their last check in, Korse arrives, flanked by a squadron of Dracs. He is walking quickly, moving straight toward the end of camp where Crow CLaws and Raven are stations. Helena watches him curiously as he moves. There’s something urgent in the way he’s walking.

There’s some kid following behind him, too. They’re not a Drac like the others, and they’re dressed in all white. They’re covered in blood and mud, and Helena can’t tell if that blood is their’s or not. In any case, the kid is tailing behind Korse, and there’s a hollow look in their eyes as they blindly follow him.

Suddenly, Korse disappears into the only tent in the station. The Dracs stop outside and begin to guard, covering all sides. The kid hesitates, then moves away from the tent towards an open spot next to it before sitting down. They plop down like the strings keeping them up had snapped, like nothing more than a pile of bones.

“Oh, look, Mike’s back.” Show Pony sits up, trying to see over Hot Chimp’s head. 

“Who’s Mike?” Helena glances at the scrawny kid that was following behind Korse.

“Ah, he’s just some kid that came here about a year ago. He didn’t stay very long, maybe a month, because he got transferred out to zone six, I think?”

“Yeah, he hit up with the battalion over there. Boy Division, it was called.” Pony hums. “He had pretty good aim, so they sent him there, ‘cause that’s where a huge amount of the fight is taking place, zones six and seven.”

“I wonder why he’s back? After a year?”

“Why don’t you go ask him?” Show Pony has a sharp smile on their lips.

“What? No way.”

“C’mon, Helena. Go make a new friend.”

Pony pushes her shoulder. Hot Chimp shrugs. “Well, someone better ask him.”

“You guys remember that month he was here, right?” Cherri finally adds. “The kid didn’t speak a single word when he was here.”

“A lot can change in just a year. Now go be nosy!”

Cherri sighs as Show Pony gives Helena a hard shove. She rolls her eyes but gets to her feet. “Fine, fine. I’ll go ask. But what do I do if Korse comes back? Or if he doesn’t wanna talk?”

Show Pony shrugs. “Just take a shot, Helena.”

She kicks their leg but makes her way towards the kid. He’s staring absently in the direction of the tent, but his eyes are so glazed over she’s sure he’s not seeing anything around him. As she gets closer, she sees that a lot of the blood on their clothes don’t appear to be leaking out from some wound.

The Dracs glance in her direction but don’t make a move to stop her. Most of the people that were congregated in the area dispersed, clearly uneasy over the sudden arrival of Korse.

She manages to get close enough to stand right next to him. He doesn’t seem to notice her, or he’s actively ignoring her, so Helena sits right next to him. “Hi! I’m Helena. What’s your name?”

His fingers twitch towards his holster as he turns his head to face her. The glassy sheen in his eyes is still there, but he looks much more alert and aware now. In the corner of her eyes, she could see a Drac reach towards their own gun.

“Mike.” His voice is higher than she expected, and also much rougher. It has a strange gravel texture to it, making his own name crunch like sand under feet. “Mike Milligram.”

“That’s a cool name,” she decides. He has a weird accent, a little too pristine to be a cultivated zone accent, but not clean enough to be Battery City. “You’ve been in this battalion before, right? The Black Parade?”

He nods. She continues. “But you got moved to a new regiment? Boy Division?”

He nods again. His hands shake and he slides them together, folding his hands on his lap. “Cool, so why are you back here, huh?”

He lowers his eyes to his lap. Helena probably should have had more tact in asking that, but she was too interesting in getting the answer to considering dressing up the question. She considers apologizing when he finally raises his eyes, gazing hesitantly between the tent and Helena, before settling on her.

“Boy Division doesn’t exist anymore.”

The meaning behind his words should have been loud and clear. But Helena won’t hesitate to admit that she’s not exactly the sharpest person, and so she doesn’t catch on to what he means.

“Huh? Do you know why?”

He stares at her. There’s an intensity to him as he watches her, and it only lasts for a few seconds, but she feels like it takes an eternity before he answers her. “They’re all dead.”

She blinks. The words take a moment for her to properly absorb and dissect, but once they do, they hit her like a freight train. A million different apologies begin to stumble out of her mouth. “Holy shit, I’m so sorry, oh Witch, I’m such an asshole, that was a terrible question to ask-”

A quiet laugh escapes his lips. It’s mostly humourless and a little empty, but it makes her stop speaking. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Seriously, though.” She places a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Mike Milligram.” Korse is standing outside the tent, and Crow Claws is peeking out, a gentle but neutral expression on her face. “Come over here.”

Mike doesn’t have to be told twice. He quickly moves to his feet and leaves Helena behind, but he gives her a small smile before disappearing inside the tent.

-

Rumors spread like wildfire upon Mike Milligram’s arrival. People are desperate for entertainment, and they’ll take anything they can get. She hears all sorts of stories from all sorts of people, trying to figure out the truth.

The entire squadron, Boy Division, was wiped out except for Mike Milligram. He’s the only survivor in a brutal attack from the enemy that captured the station he was at. He managed to escape.

People say he killed his entire squadron himself and was trying to cover it up. That he went crazy from being in war for so long and he finally snapped, like so many other little soldiers. 

Others say he was a spy for the enemy and ratted out his own squadron. The enemy came in and killed everyone, leaving behind Mike as agreed.

People don’t trust Mike Milligram. When your squadron goes down in a fight, you ought to go down with them. If every single person is dying around you, then there’s no point in bothering to stay alive. At that point, you’ve made friends within that regiment, and if you’ve watched them die right before your eyes, you should be joining them.

There’s no point in surviving. BLi will only ship in more soldiers to replace you. There’s no glory to living, to outliving this new family you’ve forged. If everyone in your life is going down, you should go down with them, too.

Helena isn’t sure how she feels about those sentiments, and she doubts most of the crazy rumours spreading about him. If Hot Chimp and Tommy and Show Pony and Dr. D and Cherri Cola all died right in front of her, Helena sure as hell isn’t going to lay down and die beside them. She’s going to do her damnedest to survive, and wreak havoc on the people who killed them.

She has a feeling Mike Milligram is like that, too. There’s a quiet rage simmering behind his eyes everytime she sees him. She thinks he’s the type of person to survive out of spite. Or perhaps she’s thinking too much of herself.

Either way, she can’t see him as a traitor of any kind. She knows nothing about him, but she’d like to. She would like to get to know him, see if he really is what people think he is. She doesn’t think she is.

She just watches him from afar as he tries to keep his distance from everyone. He did just watch his entire regiment die violent and bloody deaths. She doesn’t blame him one bit for trying to stay away from people.

She’ll give him space, and then she’ll try again.

-

Show Pony doesn’t seem to have that same idea.

Two days after Mike first arrived, Show Pony gathers up the rest of their friends and rubs his hands together. ‘I think we should try to befriend Mike.”

“Uh, we’re still not entirely sure he didn’t kill his entire squad?” Hot Chimp counters, flicking Show Pony’s arm. “Listen, that kid was all sweet and stuff when we first met for that one month we knew him, but like, we have absolutely no idea what he’s like now.”

“Yeah, he’s probably as batshit as Mad Gear,” Tommy offers. “But at least Mad Gear has Missile Kid to keep them in line.”

“Come on,” Show Pony whines. “This is Mike Milligram we’re talking about. People just wanna start shit, you can’t actually believe he just up and killed everyone. He’s not Mad Gear.”

“War does things to people,” Dr. D simply adds. “It can blight out even the kindest of hearts, and reveal the darkest parts of the moon.”

“Blah, blah, blah!” Show Pony uses their hand to mimic Dr. D. “Yeah, I don’t care. We’re going to make a new friend, no ifs, ands, or buts!”

“War can cause flowers to wilt from the strain of blood as water, but roses can bloom despite concrete barriers,” Cherri uses. “He’s just a child. I doubt he did any of that stuff.”

“Finally! Someone on my side!” Show Pony punches Cherri Cola’s shoulder a bit too hard given the wince on his face, but they don’t seem to notice. “It never hurts to get people on our side.”

“And if we misjudged his character completely?” Hot Chimp asks. “Even if he isn’t a crazy homicidal killer, which I guess we all are, really, he might not believe in the same things as us. And if he reports us to BLi, we're going to be Draced, no question. We’ve all had at least one minor infraction over our loyalty- BLi doesn’t take risks when it comes to questions of loyalty.”

“Something tells me we’ll find a friend in him,” Show Pony states. “That month that he was around, he didn’t seem like the type to follow people blindly. He’s quiet, yeah, but he’s more like Cherri Cola’s flavour of quiet.”

“It’s a risk.”

“Well, you guys had me join.” Helena shrugs. “You guys are super cool. I’m sure Mike is a nice person, too. Giving someone a chance can’t hurt.”

Show Pony cheered. “See! Three against three!”

“Alright,” Dr. D states. “It can’t hurt to try, can it?”

“Yeah, it can.” Tommy sighs. “But he is just a kid.”

-

“Hey, Mike?”

Helena is at Mike’s side again. He’s sitting alone, eating a ration bar. He glances up at her, curious. “Hm?”

“Wanna sit with me and Show Pony and them?” She points towards their usual spot. “Sure beats sitting alone, I think.”

Mike blinks. He glances over at them. They’re all trying to look like they aren’t spying on this conversation. Show Pony’s the only one who’s acting natural, of course. Mike glances back at Helena. “Are you sure?”

There’s a lot of unspoken words in just that simple sentence. She ignores them. “Yeah! I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t. You seem cool.”

She offers him a hand to help him up. He eyes it, but he doesn’t take it. Still, he does get up, and he quietly follows behind her as they move towards the group.

Show Pony reacts first. “Heya, Mike. Long time no see, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“How old are you now, huh?” Hot Chimp teases. Despite her initial concern. Hot Chimp elbows Mike. She’s friendly with him. “Twelve?”

Mike’s face scrunches up. She has a feeling he got teased about his age a lot when he was first hanging out with them. “Haha. I turned sixteen in March.”

Helena blinks. Wait. 

Helena definitely was not the best in school when she was able to go. She was way too busy trying not to starve to even bother trying in school. But she can do basic math. And if Show Pony says he’s been serving in the war for a year now, that means…

“Hold on,” Helena intervenes, “wait. How long have you been serving in these wars?”

Mike glances at her. There’s an unreadable expression on his face. “Does it matter?”

“He was fifteen when we first met him,” Show Pony coos, completely ignoring the terse atmosphere. They pinch Mike’s cheeks, then ruffle his hair. “Just a little baby!”

Fifteen.

Jesus Christ.

“Why the hell are you serving?” She asks. “Why now? Why at fifteen?”

“Helena…” Tommy warns.

“How did you even get in? BLi doesn’t let in people younger than seventeen!”

“BLi doesn’t draft people younger than seventeen,” Mike corrects. “When you’re seventeen, it’s not an option anymore. Technically, you can’t volunteer to serve until your sixteen. But BLi doesn’t bother checking to see if you’re actually sixteen or not.” Mike glances around, darting his eyes, before adding with disdain, “BLi doesn’t care how old you are. They just want soldiers.”

“But why would you want to do this?” She can’t wrap her head around it. “Why?”

“I need money.” Mike sighs. “The why doesn’t matter, though. It never does.”

Helena doesn’t know how to take his words. Dr. D shifts, and Helena glances at him. There’s a sharp look in his eyes while he glances at Mike, who’s gone back to looking at the ground as they eat.

Helena can’t believe this, but she completely can. Of course BLi doesn’t fucking care about children, of course BLi doesn’t fucking care. They need soldiers to win this war, and they don’t care who offers to serve.

God, and she thought Mike was older than her. 

“I see,” she settles on. “I guess you’re right.”

Mike quietly excuses himself, disappearing from their table to go back to his bunk, and Hot Chimp immediately uses this to talk freely. “Oh, I got a feeling this kid is one of us.”

“He doesn’t like BLi,” Tommy states. “If this kid was signing up for money, there’s definitely issues at home.”

“And he probably blames BLi for them,” Pony adds.

It feels strange to talk about him like this, like they’re dissecting some character in a book rather than an actual person. She sighs. “So we can be friends with him?”

“I think he’ll be a good addition,” Dr. D offers. “Almost as good as you, Helena.”

“And we all know I was the best addition!” Show Pony cries.

“I think we have two very definitions of best,” Tommy mutters. “And I recommend you read a dictionary, because your definition matches ‘worst’ much more.”

“Hey! Fuck off!”

-

Mike begins to spend time with them, more and more. It goes inch by inch, of course- Mike is still trying to remain as withdrawn as possible. He doesn’t speak much in many of their conversations, just listens and watches, but he still spends time with them. Usually he only bothers to hang around when they’re eating together, but sometimes he lingers a bit during a particularly interesting conversation.

It’s baby steps, really, and while Helena wishes they could just be fast friends, she can understand why Mike is taking things slow.

He just watched his entire squadron die horrific deaths. He’s still trying to cope from that loss, let alone be a functional and social human being again. Plus, he’s probably not too keen on making any more connections with people considering the last people he probably got attached to died bloody deaths right before his eyes.

He’s also been serving since he was fifteen. She can’t imagine how much that must have fucked him up. He probably can’t trust for shit, since he’s been here for so long.

She’ll take what she can get, even if that means he’ll only spend time with them in maximum thirty minute intervals.

-

There’s a battle a few weeks after they first tried to befriend Mike.

This is by no means a slight, and is in fact an honest fact, but Show Pony is easily the worst fighter in their small group of friends. Helena has been fighting less than them and she can still shoot way better than them. Simply put, Show Pony has very little physical strength and an equally absent aim. They can dodge decently, but they’re just not a good fighter.

That’s why they usually stick to spy missions instead of combat. But when there’s no mission for them to go on, when they’re stuck here at camp, they’re expected to keep fighting. So when a fight breaks out when their enemy attempts to ambush them, Show Pony reluctantly pulls out their gun and joins the fray.

Genuinely, it has to be divine intervention for Show Pony to still be alive.

In any case, bombs are going off all around them. Her ears are beginning to ring, and smoke and ash is fogging up even the most talented fighters’ vision. It’s hard to see on both sides as dust and sand keeps getting kicked up from the blasts of bombs that seem to be growing ever nearer to her.

Shots are firing at random now, everyone trying to hit anything that even so much as twitches. It’s almost hard to tell enemy from friend, so Helena keeps herself tight to Hot Chimp’s side as they try to keep fighting.

Show Pony has disappeared in the fray, and she’s pretty sure she can hear them trying to shoot to her left. Mike is tailing after Show Pony, providing cover they desperately need. And they hadn’t been kidding when they said Mike was a good shot- he was better than Hot Chimp, but not quite as sharp of a shooter as Cherri, who could probably get himself a position as a sniper if he wanted to.

Dr. Death Defying and Tommy were to her right, covering each other and firing back tenfold on the enemy in front of them. They covered behind some rocks, and if Helena had the time, she’d like to watch them work, because the two of them are terribly deadly together.

Bombs are bursting left and right and Helena’s almost getting disoriented by all the flashing white lights and kicked up dust storms. Still, Hot Chimp and her keep together, and they manage to inflict quite a bit of damage.

Something green catches her attention. It flies through the air, catching the corner of her eye, and she takes a chance and follows the arc. It’s a grenade, through and through.

She spies Show Pony and Mike back to back. Mike is the one who sees the grenade land barely feet away from them, and there’s a split second where panic washes over his features before he moves.

He kicks the grenade as hard as he can in the direction it came from, then pushed Show Pony to the ground, harshly. The two go tumbling into the sand, Mike moving right on top of Pony, before the grenade finally detonates. The explosion rattles in Helena’s ears, and she breaks away from Hot Chimp to move after them.

They’re not supposed to care about fallen comrades. Anyone who falls can be replaced, easily. You have to keep marching forward, you have to keep facing death head on. Don’t care about the collateral. The aftermath is secondary.

Helena’s not the best at following directions, though. 

Hot Chimp tags along after her as they pick their way through the corpses and rubble. Hot Chimp covers her as best she can while they both move, laser fire lighting up the dust kicked up in the aftermath of the explosion.

Show Pony is already holding Mike in their arms, and Mike looks worse for wear. They both have blistering burns up their arms, but Mike’s back is a bright red. The explosion seems to have almost cauterized itself, but those burns are still gnarly to look at, and he’s definitely going to need treatment.

“Holy fuck,” Show Pony whispers, trying to keep Mike awake as they shake him a bit. “Dude, you just saved my ass.”

“At the cost of mine,” Mike coughs out. Pony laughs. “God, these buns are toasted.”

Hot Chimp sighs. “If you assholes can make jokes about assholes, you’re both fine. Come on, we’re in the middle of a fight.”

“I think I’ll just lay here for a bit,” Mike wheezes out. “Cover me.”

“‘Course,” Pony cheers.

“Not them.”

Helena and Hot Chimp move towards Mike, Hot Chimp already shooting through the dust cloud. “Duh, we don’t want you both fucking dead.”

“You guys suck,” Show Pony states, but they don’t try to make them leave. Helena is thankful Show Pony also realises they are a shit fighter.

Mike keeps his hands on his gun, his knuckles white. But he relaxes a bit as Helena, Show Pony, and Hot Chimp surround him and protect him. If there was any doubt in trust from anyone, this moment seems to seal the deal that their lives are safe in each other's hands.

-

After that, any animosity anyone had for Mike dissipated. There’s a deep seated trust between all of them now, but especially between the four of them.

Mike is hanging out with them, more and more. He laughs at Show Pony’s antics and makes small banter with Tommy and listens to Cherri’s poetry and Dr. D’s advice and teaches Hot Chimp some tricks with her gun and will let Helena talk for hours on end. He’s actually engaging with them now, offering his own stupid jokes and small snippets of thoughts into their conversations.

It’s nice to see. 

-

Helena and Mike seem to be growing the closest out of all of them. They are the closest in age together, and when Show Pony celebrates their nineteenth birthday, they both begin to realise they’re the only children in this battalion. Anyone else their age has died.

Helena will talk for literal hours and Mike will patiently pay attention for every minute of their almost completely one sided conversations. He’ll offer a few words in between, but usually it’s just Helean who talks. Not many of the others can stand her constant stream of chatter, and they do try. Even Show Pony can’t keep up, and they're almost just as much of a chatterbox as her.

So Helena definitely likes spending time with Mike, because while he might not add all that much to a conversation, he definitely doesn’t seem to mind listening to her. Helena definitely doesn’t mind being uninterrupted.

He thinks her thought process is funny, He likes to listen to her tangents to see where the conversation will end up at. And yeah, Helena isn’t great at keeping her topics straight. She can be a bit scatterbrained, so their conversations can start with wondering how the universe was born to how many pairs of underwear they think Tommy has (one).

They’ll sit in each other’s bunks during the night and they’ll talk for hours on end. It’s during these quiet, private moments does she learn facts about Mike fucking Milligram.

His birthday is March 22nd. He always thought being an aviator would be cool because he always wanted to see more of the world. His favourite colour is red. He used to work as a newspaper boy, then as a metal collector. He loves super sweet foods. 

He’s only shy in large groups. But as they spend more time together, as just the two of them, she begins to see that he can be just as loud and rambunctious as her. He won’t back down from dares. He gets too loud when talking about things he’s passionate about. He’s always excited to help pull pranks on Show Pony (such as filling any clothing item they could find with sand in it). 

Mike’s a genuinely nice and funny guy. As they begin to spend more and more time together, Helena’s beginning to see him as her best friend. They’re even becoming tighter than her and Show Pony and Hot Chimp.

-

Mike turns seventeen a few months later.

By now, they’ve known each other for several months, and Helena has been fighting for almost a year now. The two of them have become partners in crime, almost always teaming up during firefights to give each other cover and eyes.

They match each other's weaknesses almost perfectly. Mike lacks a lot of physical strength, Helena has plenty. Mike is extremely dexterous, Helena isn’t. Mike has speed, Helena doesn’t. Helena has sharp eyesight, Mike has great hearing. Both of them are deadly shots, and they’re absolutely nasty when they team up together.

They patch each other up when one of them falls. They’re with each other through those tough sleepless nights, or nights filled with unforgettable dreams. They’re with each other through war and battles, through hell’s fire and ash and brimstone. They’re with each other almost every waking and sleeping minute, and Helena finds herself unable to dream of a future where Mike isn’t in it.

Helena loves all of her friends, there’s no question there. She adores Show Pony’s humour, Hot Chimp’s energy, Tommy’s sharp wit, Dr. D’s advice, and Cherri Cola’s kindness. She loves them all dearly, because they’re her friends, her first true friends since Frankie, and she’ll love them until the end of time and then some. They mean the world to her, and she would go through hell and back for them if they asked.

She has the same feeling for Mike as well, but there is something different about their friendship, and she can’t place a finger on it. They are friends, much more than best friends, but they’re closer in ways she can’t explain, can’t compare to her other friendships.

They’ve all bleed together, cried together, laughed together, prayed together. Every experience she shares with them, she’s also shared with Mike. So she can’t quite explain the difference in her feelings towards him until the morning of her eighteenth birthday.

It’s in the middle of night, long before the sun is supposed to rise and long after it had set. She feels someone shaking her shoulder, and she turns on her side, finding Mike Milligram peering into her face. She wasn’t sleeping, but Mike still appears almost sheepish.

“Bad dream?” She asks. It’s not the first time they’ve gone to each other for that reason, and it won’t be the last.

“No. But I have something to show you, if you’re interested.” Mike Milligram offers her a hand, and she accepts it silently, unflinchingly. “It’s a bit of a walk, though.”

“That’s fine.” Because she would walk to the end of the earth for him if he asked, if any of her friends asked. She knows they all feel the same, and it’s that trust that makes it easy for her to say yes. “So where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

She’s already standing, but they’re still holding each other’s hands. Mike begins to quietly drag her along, and she happily follows after him, hand in hand, moving away from their peers to disappear into the nightly horizon. 

They walk for quite a chunk of time, enough for the moon to move across the sky. It doesn’t give them very much light since it’s still waxing, but she can still see most of Mike’s face. Shadows dance across both of them as they walk, and Mike’s eyes are the brightest she’s ever seen them. 

Helena fills the air with ceaseless chatter. It’s a habit she can’t break, to just start talking when they’re both alone. She goes on this stupid tangent about a dream she had a few nights ago, then about how Cherri told her about intereptating dreams, then about how she tried to interpret her dream, then over the idea of whether people can actually predict the future, then a long winded tangent over how she thinks Tommy might be psychic.

Mike listens to her like always, offering a few comments of his own, a couple of giggles at her dumb theories, and his eyes always on her. He listens, always interested in what she has to say, and Helena feels something in her heart stir when she glances back at him to see him watching her with observing eyes and his full attention.

Suddenly, Mike stops in place, and Helena decides to soak in her surroundings.

They’re at the top of a small cliff. A canyon stretches on for miles under them, red and rocky. They’re not particularly high off the ground, but it’s enough to make her stop looking down. “So what are we doing here?”

“Look up.”

She glances up.

Stars shimmer almost as brightly as the dog tags on a Joshua tree. They twinkle in a rainbow of colours, their light appearing strange as it gets filtered through the Earth's damaged atmosphere from all the nuclear attacks during the first portion of the Helium Wars. There are almost auroras waving in the sky, and she feels as if she’s staring into her own little universe.

“All the bombs keep causing so many dust clouds where we’re at,” Mike explains, sitting down on the ground, Helena dropping right next to him. “So it’s hard to see all this.”

“This is amazing,” Helena stresses, staring at the twinkling stars. “Holy shit, Mike, this is wonderful.”

“I go here sometimes, to clear my head.” He leans back, and Helena lies down next to him, still keeping her eyes on the strange stars. “If you want, I could show you some constellations?”

“You know them?”

“Yeah. My mom taught them to my sister, who taught them to me.”

“You have a sister?” 

“Yep. Her name’s Emily. She’s a year older than me.” Mike hums quietly, and Helena finally turns to look at him, his own eyes are staring up at the sky, and stars glimmer in the reflection of his irises. “I think you guys would like each other a lot. She’s a bit of a spitfire, in a different way than you or I, though. She’s got a lot of energy, but it’s mostly just anger. Lot’s of anger.” He laughs a bit. “But she’s really witty. You would’ve gotten along.”

Helena remains quiet for a bit. She has a feeling this is a pretty important compliment, something Mike isn’t just going to hand out. “She sounds like fun.”

“You know what else is fun? Stargazing.” Mike points up at the sky, and Helena tries to follow his finger. “Here, I’ll teach you some constellations.”

He starts listing a few, tracing outlines of patterns with his finger. Helena tries to understand what he’s talking about, but she doesn’t really catch on to most of the patterns he points out. She gets lost after the big dipper, but pretends to understand so she can hear him explain a few more.

Mike goes quiet for a little while after, and she thinks he’s run out of stars to play connect the dots with. She doesn’t say a word either. For some reason, at this moment, she doesn’t feel the need to get rid of the silence. She’s content, laying her beside Mike, staring up at the stars above, listening to their rhythmic breaths and her own heart beat.

Finally, Mike speaks again. “You asked me when we first met why I became a soldier. I said it was for money. That’s only partly true.”

“Oh?”

“My sister was really sick. I think it was from the medication they were trying to shove on us. My sister had bad bouts of depression and anxiety and anger issues, so they gave her a bunch of pills to fix her. It made her…” Mike trails off, tracing shapes in the sand between them. “Empty. Like, they drowned out every single emotion she had. So yeah, sure, she couldn’t be depressed or anxious or angry, but she couldn’t be happy or loving, either. And then the pills started to have super bad side effects, and then she got so sick she couldn’t even get out of bed.”

Mike stops tracing shapes. “BLi said they could fix her, that they had the midaction to get rid of whatever was wrong with her, that they fixed the dosages they gave her. But they needed money, more than we had. And since Emily of course couldn’t go to war, I went instead, ‘cause they give us a paycheck. So that’s why I’m here.”

Mike sucks in a deep breath. “I signed up the day before my fifteenth birthday. Two weeks later, and I found myself here.”

A quiet stretch of silence passes between them.

“You’re a good person, Mike,” she finally settles on. “I hope you know that.”

“I’m trying to be. I want to be. But can we be good people after all we’ve done?”

“Who cares if we can or can’t. What matters is if we try. We can die at any moment, and I want to make sure I spend every moment I have trying.”

Mike glances at her. They both make eye contact, and Mike’s hand inches ever closer to hers. She doesn’t hesitate to meet him halfway, and their hands intertwine. “I guess we can’t just waste any chance we get.”

There’s a meaning behind his words, a double message. She thinks she knows what he means.

When she looks into his eyes, she thinks she finally understands what she’s feeling, because she sees it reflected back at her. Love.

She’s in love.

She doesn’t have much experience in it. She was too busy working and trying not to die to care much about love, especially the sort of love BLi preached. She didn’t care about having children and living in a two story house and staying at home and being the perfect submissive wife. She only cared about getting food on her plate.

She knows what love is. Her mother used to whisper stories of how she fell in love with her father to her when they still had time to be together. She knows the concept, but she’s never really felt it like this before.

Because she loves her friends, all of them. She adores every single one of them, and would defy the stars and the heavens for them, would do anything they said because she trusts them as much as she possibly can. She feels the same for Mike, except it’s a different sort of feeling in her gut when she stares back at them, when their eyes meet and she feels nearly breathless.

Romantic and platonic love feed into each other, and it’s hard to distinguish the difference. She thinks she knows what she feels, but what if she’s wrong? What if she doesn’t love him like that? What if he doesn’t love her like that? What if they both do?

Dr. Death Defying always said that if you don’t believe in a tomorrow, then there’s no point in planning like you’ll have one. Helena has never believed in a tomorrow, because she knows their lives are too precarious to believe in something that might not exist for them one of these days. You have to live in the now, you have to live life with no regrets or else you’re going to die with so many.

She grips his hand tight and scoots closer to him until they’re inches apart. Mike watches her with unreadable eyes, but she sees the trust twinkling in his eyes, and she thinks she knows the answer to every question on the tip of her tongue. But she still asks the one she’s desperate to have a confirmation on.

“Can I kiss you?”

The words slip out. She could have confessed her love to him first, could have found other things to say. Instead, she says those four little words, and she awaits for the answer she hopes she already knows the answer to.

Mike’s expression shifts, ever so slightly. He softens, and a smile creeps up and curls his lips.

“Always.”

Helena moves forward, and Mike meets her half way, just like always.

It’s not a perfect first kiss by any means. They don’t automatically know what they’re doing, especially not since they’ve been raised to be lambs to be slaughtered in an unforgiving war. It’s soft and small and doesn’t last more than a few seconds. Both their lips are chapped beyond belief, yet it’s still an enjoyable sensation.

Helena pulls away but keeps a hand on Mike’s cheek. He watches her with eyes full of wonder, and she knows she has that same expression perched on her face. “This is a thing now, huh?”

Mike reaches up to touch the hand on his cheek. “I guess so. Not so bad.”

“I think I love you.”

“Maybe one day, we’ll both be able to say it confidently. But yeah, I think I love you, too.”

Helena smiles. The lights twinkle in his eyes as he watches her with a quiet serenity. She leans back towards him, brushing their noses together. “Wanna try again?”

“Of course.”

-

They’re not exactly loud about their relationship. They’re still trying to grapple with what exactly it all means, what they both are feeling. It takes them a little while to sort it all out, to understand what relationship they want, what they want from each other. They’ve never been in love, and they’re not falling in love with each other, they’re just tripping.

So they don’t announce it, and they aren’t overly affectionate, and for a while, nothing really changes all that much. No one notices that something’s changed between them as they try to figure out what exactly they want. Neither of them have ever really contemplated much about what they want.

It’s like they’re still just two best friends, trying to take on the world together with the help of this small family they managed to make.

Neither of them were ever super affectionate, anyway. Well, Helena’s beginning to think of herself as rather touchy, now that they’re exploring this side of the relationship. But Mike is a bit more hesitant, a bit more reserved about things like that.

But they both begin to slowly warm up to the idea of loving each other, with their actions and their words, and they begin to forget that it’s something they haven’t mentioned to anyone, that it’s a relationship still unspoken. They hold hands more and brush each other’s hair and sleep in the same beds and they touch more and more until it’s something that’s really blurring the line between romantic and platonic love.

And then Helena accidentally tips the news over.

It’s a boring reveal, really. It’s a stupid mistep in their routine.

Helena wakes up bright and early, just like always. She and Mike stumble out of bed like always until they make it to their usual spot, where Cherri is already awake, quietly writing poetry on the wrapper of his breakfast. Dr. D is humming songs from times well before Helena or Mike or Cherri. Show Pony and Hot Chimp are still in their bunks- they’ve always been the worst at waking up on time. 

They get settled in and they eat their shitty and tasteless breakfast. Helena downs straight coffee grinds to try to wake up a bit more before their new day of writhing in the dust like lizards commences. Mike is falling asleep while eating his breakfast bar.

Pony and Hot Chimp straggle to their circle, and Helena begins to get up from her seat, yawning. “Hey Mike, want me to grab you a coffee?”

Mike’s eyes are barely even open. “Yeah…”

She pecks a kiss on his cheek and ruffles his hair. “I’ll be back, honey.”

There’s a low whistle from Show Pony at the sight, and Helena suddenly realises exactly what she did. Hot Chimp has bright eyes and a terrible smirk on her face. Cherri is smiling, genuinely. Dr. D is watching almost intensely.

“Well, it’s about fucking time,” Show Pony croons, a smug smile turning their lips up as they elbow Mike in the ribs, who’s barely even processing anything that’s happened. “You guys are together, huh?”

“Told y’all they were dating,” Hot Chimp announces, crossing her arms. “Cherri, you owe me a cherry cola!”

Cherri lets loose a long suffering sigh. “Yeah, you’ll have to take an iou until we get out of these trenches. To taste the riches of the past is impossible while we are forging a new future.”

“A simple ‘I’m too much of a pussy to make good on my word’ would suffice.”

“Can we please get back to the love birds?” Show Pony whines. “They’re so cute! Look at these little babies, they’re in love.” Show Pony tears up a bit, wiping at their face. “God, it feels like just yesterday I was watching them dodge the romantic tension they kept building.”

“Hey!” Mike grunts indigently. 

“God, we’re getting old!” Show Pony continues, placing their hand over Mike’s face and showing them away. “Our babies are in love! They’re gonna get hitched before we know it- oh my god, if you bitches have a baby together, you better fucking name it after me!”

“Who the hell is gonna name their baby Show Pony?” Tommy grumbles, rubbing his head. “Firstly, that name’s dumb as hell. Secondly, who wants to name their kid after an annoying asshole like you? Why waste a terrible name on a good kid?”

“Show Pony is a good name!” Pony cries defensively, placing a hand on their heart. “Take that back!”

“Literally I can't even fathom getting married,” Helena states. “Let alone having a fucking kid.”

“And we would not name them Show Pony,” Mike deadpans.

“You guys are way too hopeful over our future,” Hot Chimp chides. “We still have to fucking end this war. And if they did have a kid, BLi’s gonna snatch it away like they did with Raven and Crow Claw’s kid. No room for love in a war, let alone a love that could possibly break your loyalty to BLi.”

“Love is known to break chains of oppression. Love it the key to the binds we are burdened with,” Cherri soberly offers.

“Wow, depressing much?” Show Pony rolls their eyes. “Listen, just be happy for these kids, alright? Finding love in war is hard.”

“Yeah, glad you guys can still be teenagers.” Tommy doesn’t look at them, but his face softens, ever so slightly. “War takes a lot, and it’s awful that it takes the lives and childhoods of children.”

“Congratulations,” Dr. D states, finally. “I think you both have a lot of potential together.”

“Thanks.” Helena pushes the hair out of her eyes, “But you guys are blowing this way out of proportion!”

“Just don’t fuck too loud,” Hot Chimp moans. “It’s bad enough hearing your pet names.”

“Hey!” Mike squacks, red in the face as he flips her off. “We’re not there!”

“Yet!” Pony sings. “Just make sure to stay safe! Don’t want to have too many Show Pony jrs around yet!”

“I hate all of you,” Helena decides, kicking Show Pony in their ribs, causing Pony to start wheezing.

“Mike and Helena sitting in a tree!” Show Pony manages to sing out.

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Hot Chimp finishes, and they both dissolve into giggles.

Cherri Cola gives them both a sympathetic look. “Seriously though, I’m happy for both of you. I only pray the Witch will give you both a happy ending.”

Mike laces their fingers together. “For all of us.”

“Or at least we’ll all go down together,” Helena adds.

“I’ll drink to that!” Tommy states, right before he pours dry coffee down his throat.

Tommy doesn’t even bat an eye, and Show Pony winces at the sight. “Gross!”

Helena and Mike sharea look. It’s quiet, something soft in that rambunctious moment. She knows what they’re both feeling in that moment, a different type of love. They laugh along with Hot Chimp.

-

Somehow, they all manage not to die. There’s this bizarre rhythm to war, and once you become accustomed to it, it replaces your heart beat and intertwines itself with you. It becomes easier, physically, though never morally.

They live, and they keep living, and it even seems as if they’re winning, too.

They get moved to a spot in zone seven, far beyond the reaches of BLi. Korse begins to visit more frequently, ensuring that they are adhering to Bli’s policies. Helena and Mike remember to remain subtle with every visit- fraternizing romantically within a battalion is frowned upon and will call for separation. If Korse finds out about them, he will split them up.

Thankfully, despite Show Pony’s loud mouth, their friends manage to keep it a quiet little secret. It’s something easy to hide but easy to fall back into once the danger is clear. Crow Claws and Raven always look the other way when they hold hands. As long as they do their job, they won’t get reported.

So Mike and Helena settle into a quiet sort of relationship. They escape from the trenches as often as they can, travelling around the area to find quiet little spots to stargaze at. Stars twinkle down at them as Mike patiently shows her more and more constellations he knows.

Helena doesn’t believe in a tomorrow- she hasn’t believed in one since she lived in the city, since her father died and she was forced into getting as many jobs as possible to provide a handful of food for the week for her and her mother. She’s been so focused on just surviving until the next sunrise, to make sure that today isn’t her last, that she’s been completely unable to think past the idea of tomorrow. She cant conceptualize the idea of a life long after the wars, a life to look forward to.

It might sound sappy, but love turns even the iciest of hearts to warmth. Helena finds herself beginning to think past tomorrow. She begins to dream of a future for herself, something different than what BLi desperately wants to push on them, something wonderful.

She doesn’t know what she wants, eyt. They’re both just kids trying to maneuver in this life of blood and strife. They don’t know what they want, from each other, from this life, but they know that they want this life to be spent together. 

That’s enough for her. They can plan out the details when the war is over, when this hell on earth will become nothing more than a bad dream.They can discover what they want, and if their ideas can fit together.

All she knows is that a future with Mike sounds wonderful, and she hopes to god she’ll be able to fit all of her friends in ut, too.

-

She’s lying next to Mike and Show Pony and Hot Chimp. They’ve snuck off from the trenches to stargaze, and they decided to let Chimp and Pony tag along, too. Hot Chimp was the worst at sneaking- he was terribly clumsy in non combat situations, and she still had a problem figuring out how to whisper. But they managed to escape into the desert, and Mike led the way to a little spot a few minutes away where the stars shine the brightest.

Mike teaches them all a few constellations. He teaches Pony and Hot Chimp the basics, and Helena watches them all trace patterns into the sky. A new idea begins to form, and when Mike pauses to search for more stars to play connect the dots with, she suggests it. 

“Here’s an idea: why don’t we make our own constellations?”

Mike blinks at her. Show Pony’s eyes are wide with excitement. Hot Chimp smiles.

“Absolutely,” Show Pony cheers. “Here, I’ll start! Look, that’s a frog!”

“You don’t even know what a frog looks like,” Hot Chimp states, but she’s still looking up at the stars Show Pony’s trying to point out.

“Well, neither do you!”

“We don’t even know if they really exist!”

“I’m pretty sure we do?” Helena intervened.

“Have you ever seen one?” Hot Chimp countered.

“... fuck.”

“Exactly!”

“Oh! This one looks like a bear!”

“It looks like Cherri?”

“He is not a bear!”

“Whatever.” Hot Chimp squints at the sky. “This one looks like a boom box.”

“This one looks like a bee!” Helena offers.

“Bee-utiful!’ Show Pony laughs. “This one looks like weed.”

“This one looks like your ass.”

“That’s just a square.”

“Yeah, it’s flat like it!”

“I HATE YOU!”

They spend the next few minutes pointing out vague star patterns that barely resemble the shapes they were mentioning. Mike just listens for a little while, gazing up at every shape they point out until it just dissolves into Pony and Hot Chimp bickering meaninglessly. Helena watches Mike stare up at the sky, and hesitantly, he points up.

“I think these stars look like two lovers,” he adds, quietly. “Like they’re holding hands.”

“The lovers,” Show Pony echoes, glancing up at the sky. “Hey, the man kinda looks like he’s holding a stick of dynamite!”

“The demolition lovers.” Hot Chimp hums. “I think that should be a new constellation.”

“Hell yeah!” Pony slaps Helena and Mike’s back. “It’s you guys!”

Helena blushes, and Mike gazes fondly at the sky. Hot Chimp begins to get up, stretching an arm. “Hey, look at those clouds?”

Sure enough, there’s quite a few clouds beginning to obscure the stars. Show Pony jumps to their feet, shaking their head. “Uh-uh! If that’s an acid rainstorm, we gotta fucking jet! I do not want acid marring my gorgeous features!”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Helena deadpans. “You don’t have any features to ruin.”

“Man, you guys are assholes!” Show Pony leans all their weight on Hot Chimp, who doesn’t even flinch at the new weight. “You guys suck!”

“Whatever. We’ll catch up with you in a few minutes, alright?”

Hot Chimp winks at them. Show Pony gives them a devilish grin. She knows what comments they’re going to make before they even make them. “Come on, get out of here!”

“Fine!” Show Pony throws their hands up. “Just don’t neck each other too hard!”

Show Pony suddenly stumbles back. A rock catches them square in the chest, causing them to stumble into Hot Chimp. Mike holds up a rock, and Show Pony puts their hands up in an attempt at making peace. “Okay! Okay! We’re out!”

Helena and Mike sit together silently as the crunching of sand begins to fade. Helena quietly laces her fingers in Mike’s hand, and he happily meets her half way. “Do you think there’s gonna be an acid rainstorm?”

“You never know.” Mike glances back at her. “The future is impossible to predict.”

“Do you wanna go back to our bunk?”

“Let’s stay here, just a little longer.” He glances back at the sky. “We’ve got time.”

They sit there for a few more minutes, ignoring the oncoming storm clouds. They just enjoy the small peace and quiet they manage to find.

-

The rain patters on the ground above the holes they’ve dug to sleep in. Helena and Mike move as one, trying to get a glimpse of the rain. They can hear shouting in the distance.

Helena manages to untangle herself first, and she sticks her head out. Cool rain beats against her head, and she doesn’t feel her skin blistering at the touch. She steps out of their little hole and glances back at Mike, who’s watching with an intrigued expression. She grabs his hand and yanks him out of the hole, and watches with glee as Mike’s face becomes awash with alarm.

They’re slowly becoming drenched in the rainwater, but neither of them care. They laugh to each other, glancing about as their comrades hop about, trying to find puddles to splash in. Show Pony is collecting water in their hands to throw at Cherri Cola, who’s just staring up at the sky with wonder. Tommy and Dr. D are chatting daily, and Hot Chimp is cheering and war-whooping.

Helena glances back at Mike. Mike watches her with a small smile. Wordlessly, they find each other in the dark of the mid morning. Helena reaches out first, and Mike meets her half way.

Silently, they share a kiss.

-

“We need to leave, now!”

Raven and Crow Claws are shaking people awake, kicking them if they take too long to move. Helena jolts awake and slams her head on the roof of their small hole, causing Mike to jerk awake. Crow Claws moves to the center of their barracks, cupping her hands to her mouth as she shouts our new orders.

“We need to get moving! Pack your bags and make peace with this land! We’re heading back north towards Battery City in half an hour! Be ready by then ir get left the fuck behind!”

“Woah, woah!” someone shouts. Helena and Mike are blearily trying to wake up, sleep still sitting on their eyes. She recognises him as Ani-Max. He’s got his arms crossed, and a sleepy Kyle 100% is leaning against him, both trying to face Crow Claws. “Why? What’s happening?”

“You know, questioning orders is an offense,” Crow Claws preens, but she sounds too exhausted to even have a threatening tone to her words. “Everyone in zone seven has just been rendered to move north. We’ve managed to push the enemy back to zone seven and beyond- it's practically empty in every other zone except for a few stragglers. It’s time to retreat, because Mom and Dad are planning on bringing in the big guns.”

“What does that mean?” Show Pony shouts, clearly annoyed at having their usual routine disturbed.

Raven sighs. “It means BLi plans on blowing zone seven sky high with pig bombs.”

Immediately, the quiet disgruntled murmurs move into frantic and loud conversations with the new news. Crow Claws let’s them talk for a few moments before immediately grabbing their attention with her voice. “Yeah, yeah, the Director has ordered several massive nukes to be aimed right at the sport we’re sitting at. SO if you don’t want your asses incinerated, you better get to fucking packing. We’re moving out at 4 o'clock sharp. If you’re not there, then you’re about to become radioactive dirt.”

There’s a flurry of movement as everyone tries to grab all of their most prized possessions. Helena and Mike rejoin with their friends. Thankfully, none of them have much to take with them, so thirty minutes is enough time. 

“Can you believe this?” Hot Chimp cries as she shoves all of the strange trinkets she’’s managed to loot from bodies into her pockets. “A thirty minute warning, and then we’re all toast.”

“I presume it’s to keep this as under wraps as possible,” Dr. D muses. “After all, thirty minutes isn’t much time to give the enemy a heads up.”

“And it’s not much time for us, either!” Show Pony runs their fingers through their hair. “Christ, you think this’ll end the war?”

“I fucking hope so,” Tommy chimes. “What’s the goddamned point of blowing an entire zone up if it doesn’t end things?”

“If there’s so many enemy bases here, it’s going to inflict a lot of damage,” Cherri adds. “If they don’t surrender, we’d have a lot of other issues on our hands.”

“Five minute warning!” Crow Claws screams. “Get your asses to these vehicles!”

There’s a rush of movement as the Back Parade moves towards the edge of the camp. The usual groups move into vehicles together, and Helena and Mike manage to snag one of the larger vehicles. Tommy shoves them aside and switches on the engine while Cherri Cola tries to guide as many of their peers into the vehicle as they can fit.

“Wait.”

It’s a mumble, and yet it’s the loudest thing Helena’s heard. Despite all the yelling and screaming and over all hysterics some people have launched into, despite the roars of engines and the thrum of motors, that quiet whisper, that calm before an inevitable storm, manages to catch her attention.

Mike and her glance over at the source. Mad Gear is sitting in the back of the truck next to Dr. Death Defying, glancing around frantically. They’d been too tired to push back Cherri Cola leading them to the truck, but something’s got them alarmed. “Wait, wait!”

“We’re at full capacity!” Show Pony shouts to Cherri. “Get your ass up here!”

“Alright, mother fuckers!” Crow Claws shouts. “You have permission to roll out! Follow behind Raven and I! We’re heading towards the base on the edge of zone three, the eastern tip. Let’s go before it starts to rain!”

“Wait!” Mad Gear rushes to the side of the back of the truck just as Tommy slams on the gas. There’s a lurch and Mad Gear falls into Helena. They don’t even mumble an apology, instead shoving her away as they try to move back towards the edge. “Wait! Missile Kid!”

Mike and Helena share a look before glancing around. Missile Kid was nowhere in sight. Oh, shit.

“Mad Gear, you’re gonna fall out.” Hot Chimp wraps her arms around them and tries to yank them back. Mad Gear appears absolutely unhinged, trying to kick their way out of her arms. Their flailing manages to smack quite a few of the bodies loaded up in the truck. 

“Let me go! Turn around! We need to get Missile Kid!”

“We can’t turn back!” Tommy shouts. “Shits about to get blown to hell and back, and I don’t want us to get caught in the crossfire just for some droid!”

“He’s more than a machine!” Mad Gear is screaming. “Let me go! Turn around! Let me get him! He was just grabbing some of the gas cans! Let me go back!”

“No can do,” Hot Chimp murmurs. “You go back, you’ll die.”

“Let me die!” They manage to flail hard enough to cause Hot Chimp to stumble, letting go of him for just a moment.

“Love won’t stop this bomb,” Dr. D states as Mad Gear tries to throw themself out of the vehicle.

Everyone rushes forward. Ani-Max and Kyle grab Mad Gear right before they were about to jump. Mad Gear just starts screaming.

“You gotta calm the fuck down!” Hot Chimp orders.

“Oh, let the lunatic go!” Tommy shouts right back. “We all know Missile Kid was the only thing holding them together. Let them try.”

“Shut up!” Helena shouts at him. She leans back and tries to swipe at him through the open back. He rolls his eyes but doesn’t further comment.

“Let me go!” 

“Stop flailing!”

“Missile Kid!”

“We can’t save him!”

“There he is!” Mad Gear points suddenly, straining their neck to look at the horizon. “Look! Go back! Turn!”

They all strain to look, but no one sees a figure in the distance. Ani-Max tries to pat Mad Gear’s shoulder, but Mad Gear just starts thrashing even more violently. “He’s going to die! You’re going to kill him! Let me go!”

Ani-Max and Kyle shove Mad Gear to the floor as they try to leap out of their arms again. All three of them go sprawling onto the back of the bed of the truck. Helena and Mike quickly scoot away from them. Hot Chimp sighs before sitting back down next to Show Pony.

Suddenly, thunder claps across the distance. There’s a flash of lightning, but it’s much brighter than the usual strike. It’s white hot and flashes across her vision. Leaving dots across her eyes in the aftermath. A wave of hot air hits her skin, and everyone turns back to face the horizon.

An unsettling inferno of an explosion rages in the distance. It’s from the very edge of zone seven, bordering on zone eight. The heat manages to sink into their skin despite the freezing qualities of the night and the distance between them.

“Look!” Cherri Cola cries. He’s staring up at the sky, his face pale with horror. Everyone follows his example and they gaze at the sky, watching. 

A hail of helicopters are flocking right over them, headed in the opposite direction. They can see the outlines of other pig bombs, waiting for the command to be dropped. 

Another clap. Another flash of white. Helena watches as the horizon becomes obscured with raging fires and dust disturbed by the explosions.

Mad Gear is screaming just as loud as the thunderous explosions. “Missile Kid! Missile Kid!”

Their anguished screams are worse than anything Helena has heard in her life. She knows she’d be in a similar state if Mike was the one left behind, or if any of her friends had been left behind. But they can’t go back, not when Missile Kid is about to get incinerated. There’s no point.

Mike holds her close to his chest. It’s more for his own comfort than for hers, but she’s still grateful for the proximity. She laces their fingers together, and Mike meets her halfway, as always.

“Missile Kid!”

Mad Gear’s screams have tampered off into incoherent wailings. They’re sobbing, openly, as Ani-Max and Kyle desperately try to provide some sort of comfort while also keeping Mad Gear contained. Helena’s never seen them cry before, and she knows now that Missile Kid is gone, she’ll never see them cry again. Why would they, when the only thing they’ve ever cared about has been wrenched away right before them?

The heat begins to fade and the light begins to dim. The sounds of the nuclear weapons bursting still rattles her ears long after they can no longer see the radiation fires wage in the horizon.

-

The enemy surrenders two days after the attack. The entire base they’re now stationed at bursts into cheers. The Black Parade, however, remains somber as Mad Gear crumples to the ground. Kyle quietly pats their head, and while Mad Gear isn’t screaming, their grief is louder than any words they could have spoken.

They’re rounding them up from the districts they’re from. They have names now, interestingly enough. Mike and her are from the Neon district of the Lobby, a section that splits Battery City’s wealthy from the poor. There’s a name for where she was stuffed into when they became so poor she had to juggle multiple jobs.

Show Pony, Hot Chimp, and Cherri are from the Lithium section of the Lobby. They say their goodbyes as Scarewcrows begin to herd them all away into their proper groups so they can be sent back home. They’re going to get discharged.

Dr. Death Defying and Tommy and Mad Gear split up towards the Cobalt district.

They’re about to go home again. But for some reason there’s no excitement in Helena at the prospect.

-

They’re passing out letters. There’s a wave of confusion as Scarecrows begin to pass envelopes to the members of the Neon district group. They have the official BLi logo on them, stamped perfectly on every envelope.

Scarecrow Korse delivers them by hand to Mike and Helena. He doesn’t utter a single word when handing them, not a hint as to what is inside. He simply places it in their hands and walks away to deliver more letters.

Helena rips hers open while Mike hesitantly picks at the flip. She unwraps the letter and begins to read, finding the wording achingly familiar to her father’s death letter.

Oh.

Her mother died six months ago.

She blinks a few times, then rereads it. Complications with her heart- she hadn’t been taking her proper medication that helped against her failing health. She died from a broken heart.

It doesn’t have the same connotation in this instance, but Helena’s heart still aches at the thought. It’s literal, but a part of her wonders if the metaphorical aspect wasn’t still correct. She didn’t see her mother that often after her dad died, but that was only because she was working her ass off to try and provide a roof and food and clothes for her.

Her mother did love her, a lot, even if she couldn't be there for her like she needed her to be.

There’s a choked sound to her left, and she tears her eyes away from her letter back to her partner. Mike has crumpled up the letter he was given, and is furiously wiping his eyes.

“It was all for nothing,” he whispered. “It was all for fucking nothing.”

“What?” She tugs him close to her side, and holds him close to her. He buries his face in her neck, and she knows this is an awkward position for both of them due to their height difference, but neither of them attempt to move. “What’s wrong?”

“Emily died.” His voice breaks, and he practically shatters in her arms. “I went to fucking war for her. I nearly died so many fucking times at fifteen for her and she still ended up dead. It was all for nothing.”

Helena squeezes him tightly, and quietly pries the letter out of his hands. She reads it a few times while Mike sobs into her shoulder, as they both try to process this newfound grief. 

Emily died last year. Complications with a surgery to help with ehr illness, so it seemed. There’s quite a bit of medical jargon she doesn’t really understand and doubts Mike does either, but the end result of the operation is obvious. Emily Milligram died.

“Seemed peaceful, I guess,” she tried. Mike nods.

“Who was your letter for?”

“My mom. She died from a heart attack.”

“Your dad?”

“He died when I was thirteen, from these wars.” They lower themselves to the floor, where they find a more comfortable position. “What about you? Any other family left?”

“No. My dad died before I was born, and my mom got replaced with a droid before I was five.” Mike rubs his eyes. “Emily was all that I had left.”

“I guess we’ll have to make a new family. Not to replace what was, but to give us something again.”

“You sound like Cherri.” There’s a small smile on his lips. “Yeah. We still have all our friends. I’m sure we’ll end up meeting again. And we have each other.”

“We’re not going to be alone.” She lifts up a pinkie, trying to emulate something she and her mother used to do. “We’ll never leave each other behind. I promise.”

Mike seems to know what she wants to do. He lifts up his own pinkie and latches together with hers, meeting each other halfway. “I promise, too.”

She glances up. She can see the stars twinkling above them, and if she squints, she can see the faded forms of the demolition lovers.

She smiles.

-

“Do you have any family left?”

Crow Claws is sitting behind a desk, gazing at Mike and Helena curiously. They’re about to be reassigned to a new home, courtesy of BLi. She has a feeling there’s an ulterior motive to their generosity, but she doesn’t dare speak that outloud. Her and Mike share enough looks to understand.

“Not really.” Helena squeezes Mike’s hand. 

“Any specific place you want to get assigned to, then?”

“We just want to stick together,” Mike whispers.

“Of course. I wouldn’t dare want to separate you two.” She glances around, her eyes lingering on Raven, who’s speaking to a couple of other soldiers. “I was in love once, too. Still am. I’ll make sure you end up together.”

“Thank you.” Helena means this, with all her heart. She doesn’t know if she can really express it as well as she wants to.

Crow Claws seems to get the message. She smiles at them, for the first time in their two years of serving together. “Anytime.” She hesitates, then places a hand on her stomach. “And if you see my kid, who should be your age, tell him I’m real proud of whoever he became.”

“I promise.”

“Alright, you’ll get your keys and address tomorrow. See you later, kids.”

-

They get shuffled into a tiny apartment in the outer edge of Battery City, a street away from entering the Lobby districts. Plenty of other veterans get sent into that same complex, but she doesn’t see any of her old friends. Show Pony, Hot Chimp. Tommy, Dr. D, and Cherri are still missing. She hopes to god she’ll find them again.

But for now, they find themselves struggling into fitting in to society.

BLi mandates therapy sessions for them for the first two months. Helena doesn’t really feel like she’s listened to during them, and the therapist doesn’t seem too keen on offering her advice. She just jots down notes and doesn’t say much unless asked a direct question. Helena’s rather thankful when the two months are up, but she still likes the idea of going to a proper therapist.

When those two months are up, Mike and her get assigned medication. The pills are to help with their anxiety and depression and their nightmares. And, well, Helena was really sick and tired of being so fucking angry and sad and terrified all the time, so she popped them in her mouth hoping they’d work. From the little history she has of the era before the wars, BLi was a pharmaceutical company, so she figured these things ought to work.

Mike seemed to have a heavier dosage than her. He’s been a war a bit longer than her, and he did watch his entire battalion get decimated before his eyes as the only survivor. They both woke up frequently in the middle of the night, haunted by dreams they couldn’t describe and terrors so intense they felt tangible. But Mike seems to be doing worse than her, if only slightly more.

BLi pushes them into integrating back into society. They offer them jobs in a pill dispensary, and Helena finds herself there quite a bit during her days. Mike works in a different section of the factory, and she finds that they are seeing each other less and less.

As time begins to drag on, she begins to notice a few things.

The pills do work. Her insomnia is completely gone, she never has any dreams, let alone night mares. Her anxiety has been regulated, she doesn’t feel so depressed she can’t get out of bed. The pills have worked, erased away all the bad feelings that made her feel sick or sad or mad.

But they erased a lot of other things, too.

Helena can’t remember the last time she felt happy. She doesn’t feel angry or d\sad or mad, but she doesn’t feel anything positive, either. In fact, it’s like she just doesn’t even feel. She can’t bring herself to smile or laugh or cry or anything of the sort. She just feels strangely… empty.

She’s not even upset that she doesn’t see Mike at all during the day. She’s not upset that her feet ache at the end of her shift, that she only gets a small lunch break, that her days are being wasted doing a job she doesn’t care about. She doesn’t feel anything when she gets home, no relief or joy at the fact that she’ll be able to sit down and see Mike again.

She doesn’t feel anything when she’s around Mike, either. They don’t kiss or hold hands or even hu anymore.. They occupy the same bed but she can barely remember the last time they touched each other willingly. There’s nothing wrong with relationships where people don’t kiss or whatever, but they’ve been doing it before, and she can’t understand why they stopped

Until she realises its the fucking pills.

So she… stops taking them, for a little while. She flushes them down the toilet, pretending to take them, because BLi has made it mandatory for veterans like her, and she’s fairly certain even normal civilians are taking them, too.

It isn’t a jarring shift, it isn’t like the world has sprung back to life, and it takes a few days for the medication to properly wear off, but slowly, Helena sees things again. She feels things again.

She wakes up in the middle of the night, her heart aching and she’s terrified. Mike only watches her blankly as she tries to calm herself down from the nightmare, watches her with absolutely no emotion in his eyes, before asking almost mechanically, “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” she settles on, but doesn’t offer any explanation.

He seems content with that, which he shouldn’t be. Mike’s always been anxious, always trying to make her feel at peace when he can, always trying to calm her down when she gets too riled up. He’s always asking questions, even if they’re quiet or silent, not loud and boisterous questions like Helena always asks. But Mike just rolls on his side and says, “Have a better night, Helena.”

Her stomach twists into knots.

This isn’t right, none of this is right. She can finally fucking feel again, and all she feels is terror. Whatever pills Mike is on has completely numbed him, and now that she has an unclogged mind, she can see the zombies that roam the streets beside her, that work right next to her. Everyone seems to be empty and colourless.

She doesn’t want to be terrified, of course. She doesn’t want to wake up every night paralyzed with fear. She doesn’t want to feel so angry she could break someone’s arm. She doesn’t want to feel so tired she can’t get out of bed. She doesn’t want to feel theses things every fucking day.

But by god, she doesn’t want to end up like a broken husk of a person. She’d rather feel these things ten times a day than feel nothing at all.

It takes her a few months to actually be able to quit the pills. Withdrawals are intense and painful, and that first week she found herself stealing some from a neighbour after she threw all hers out. She hated the withdrawals, hated the feeling of not being in proper control, and all the god awful side effects that came with trying to quit an addiction, but she needed to clear her head.

It took a couple of tries, but eventually, she finds herself decently clean from those pills. She tries to hint a bit at Mike about quitting, but Mike doesn’t seem to mind the achingly numb feeling in his soul. He doesn’t take the hints, and she’s too nervous he might report her if she straight up tried to make him quit.

She’s terrified for him, if she’s honest. The difference in their dosages must be why she was able to break away easier. Her mind wasn’t so hazy from the very beginning. But god, she doesn’t want to fucking lose her partner.

-

She lurks about the apartment, trying to see if there’s anyone else who feels the same as her. There’s countless other soldiers in this building with her, surely someone must think that these pills are bad?

Most are zombies, roaming about aimlessly, idly, their heads practically empty. She sees them crawling all over the complex, their eyes vacant and stained, their movements robotic and their faces filled with hollow point smiles. They’re all husks, ghosts, phantoms that pass on through the hallways of work and their home.

But there’s a few she notices that aren’t as stiff, who’s eyes don’t seem quite as empty.

Kyle 100% and Ani-Max are lingering around, and she notices they’re a part of the few who aren’t completely hollowed out and rusted on the inside. There's a kid that lives with Kyle, and she’s fairly sure that’s his little brother. He has a real name, but when Kyle and him and Ani-Max are alone, they call him Monster. He’s a cute kid, and she can’t help but wonder where that nick name stems from.

They’re in their apartment when she catches wind of a conversation.

“We need to get out of here,” Ani-Max whispers. Technically, he should be in his apartment, the room next to Kyle’s, but she notices he spends more time with them than anywhere else. “We have to leave.”

“Yeah, they’re starting to suspect us.” Kyle sighs. “You know me, I’m a shit liar.”

“You sure fucking are,” Mosnter spits. “God, we’re lucky those Dracs are dumb as rocks or else you’d be dead where you stand and I’d have to fucking mourn you ro something>”

“Wow, glad you care about me.”

“Well, it’d look suspicious if I did mourn, so I think I’ll actually just avoid your funeral.”

“Man, fuck you too. No wonder mom hated you.”

“Dude, she hated you more.”

“Anyway,” Ani-Max tries. “Like I was saying?”

“Shit, yeah. We need to blow this joint.”

“I work at the patrol station, down by the border of the Lobby and the desert. As security and shit with the other Dracs.”

“Yeah, we know.” There’s an obnoxious slurp from Monster, she thinks. There’s a smack, and Monster yelps, and then Kyle shushes him before yelping right back as there’s another smack.

“Christ, it’s like there's two thirteen year olds here,” Ani-Max bemoans. “Can I finish talking, or should I just start fighting with you guys, too?”

“No, no. Carry on.”

“Anyway, at night, there’s a shit ton of guards at the wall, in case the rebels try to break in. But during the day, there’s only three of us. No one’s stupid enough to break in or out in the middle of the day.”

“Except for us!” Kyle cheers. Monster seems to smack him again before shushing him.

“Yeah. So my next day shift, we’re gonna bust the fuck out of here.”

Helena decides this is the time to intervene. She needs to escape, too, and right now, this seems like the best fucking plan they have. She wouldn’t be able to get far by herself, not if she doesn’t have any inside help. She knocks on the door.

Immediately, the room goes quiet. There’s a tense energy as she hears some footsteps hesitantly ease towards the door. There’s another pause before the door unlocks and swings open. Kyle is glancing down at her, and from her view, Monster is staring blankly at the tv screen and Ani-Max is nowhere to be found.

“Oh, hi, Helena.” Kyle says that a bit loudly, and she knows he’s trying to let Ani-Max know the situation. “Something wrong?”

He’s suspicious, but in a different way. He’s on guard, but he’s watching her almost expectantly. It’s strange for people to talk to their neighbours, and she knows her invading on them is out of character for those on the pills.

“Everything is wonderful,” she says, keeping her voice monotone in case of any surprise passerbys. “However, I ran out of our sugar rations and I was wondering if I could borrow some?”

Kyle hesitates. He’s always been a bit oblivious. Monster is trying to discreetly watch them both. “Yeah, I’ll go get some real quick.”

He starts to close the door, but she puts her foot in between the door and the doorway. Mike is watching her, trying to keep a blank face, but there's a fraction of fear leaking into his eyes. If she strains her ears, she can hear the slight hum of a laser blaster. Of course. Ani-Max is preparing for an encounter gone wrong. She doesn’t take it personally- she’s rather flattered she’s thought of as a threat.

“Please, let me come in.” She stares him dead in the eye. “I think it would be polite to do so.”

Kyle stares at her. There’s a split second of hesitation, before he finally swings the door open. “Of course. I forget myself. Come in.”

He almost slams the door shut behind her. Monster is watching with analytical eyes, and she knows she’s being sized up. Ani-Max has gone completely quiet, and she’s glad at least one of these people are good at pretending.

She follows after Kyle into the kitchn and sits down at the table. Monster is still visible from her point of view, and the kid is still watching her, silently. She decides to make her move. She puts her feet right on the table, tilting her chair a bit, and calls out, quiet enough that neighbours won’t hear, “Hey Ani-Max, how ya doing?”

Monster blinks, then a terrifying grin full of sharp teeth flitters across his face. Kyle chokes, whirling around from his position to face her. Not a sound is heard, but she can imagine the expression on Ani-Max’s face, which is good enough for her.

“Alright,” she continues. “Let’s cut the bullshit. I heard y’all plotting about escaping Battery City. I want in.”

“You’re…”

“Off the pills, yes.” She winked. “I’m sober. Now, I know you guys are too. And Ani-Max, don’t be shy. I know you’re here, too.”

The closet door down the hallway to her right opens. Ani-Max hesitantly steps out. The gun is in it’s holster, hidden under his jacket, but she knows that it would still be warm to the touch. She sends him a placating smile before diving right in. “So what do you guys say? If you’re serious about leaving, I am too.”

Ani-Max considers this. “You and Mike were some of the best fighters we saw. Have you seen Show Pony or Hot Chimp or any of them? They’d be really good help if we wanted to pull this off.”

“Uh, no offense, but why should we add her in?” Kyle shrugs. “We don’t have that great of a chance by ourselves.”

“You should know the more eyes, the better. More people covering your back , the more likely a mission like this can succeed,” Monster lectures. “I’ve played enough Neon Ghostslingers 4 to know that.”

Kyle punches his shoulder, but Monster’s shit eating grin doesn’t fade. “Fine, okay. I get the point.”

“But anyway,” Helena begins, turning her attention to Ani-Max. “No, I haven’t seen them. It’s just been me and Mike. I don’t know where the others are, but I’m sure they’re plotting an escape, just like you.”

“Show Pony wouldn’t last a fucking day conforming like Bat City wants them too,” Ani-Max agrees. “So it’s just the five of us then, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess so. Do you guys have any sort of plan?”

“An outline. I serve in a Drac patrol on the south east side of the city, right where the guarding wall of Battery City meets the Lobby and the desert. If we escape during the day, we have a good chance of actually making it into the desert. BLi doesn’t expect people to bust in or out in broad daylight. There’s way fewer guards guarding this section, and I can take them out before you arrive.”

“But how do we get to the Lobby? In broad daylight?”

“That’s the kicker.” Ani-Max sighs. 

“You know,” Kyle begins, hesitantly. “There’s a scarecrow that lives on the bottom floor. He does his laundry on Saturdays, but he always forgets to take them out of the community dryer until Sunday…”

“I’ve got some juvie hall friends,” Monster Kid adds. “Fun Ghoul and Mr. Sandman and his crew- if they’re still alive, I could get you some hair dye.”

“Monster Kid and I could pass that I’m trying to get him to a pharmacist.” Kyle nods. “He’ll pretend to be sick or something. And you and Mike could… well..”

“He’ll pretend to be the Scarecrow, and I’ll be the pornodroid.” It’s well known that pornodroids are frequently used by Scarecrows. She taps her finger on her chin. “Okay, that works. This could work.”

Ani-Max grins. “Fuck yes. Okay, the next day shift I have is two weeks from now, that Sunday. You can steal the clothes Saturday, and that’s plenty of time for Monster Kid to use his juvie hall connections.”

“Mike and mine’s shift at the pill factory start at nine that morning.”

“I don’t go in until ten at the weapons facility,” Kyle adds. “I might be able to snag a few weapons if I’m lucky.”

“School starts at nine, too.”

“If we leave around that time, it won’t be enough time for BLi to realise something is off, that we’re not there. Damn, this could actually work.”

“What do we do when we get to the desert?” Helena asks.

“There’s a few neutrals that border zone one. I’ll steal a Drac patrol map so we can plan an escape route to one of those places.”

“Neutrals?”

“That’s what we call people who escaped during or after the Helium Wars, but don’t want to be involved in the rebel work some of the people who escaped to the desert are doing.” Ani-Max shrugs. “There’s a couple of neutral settlements that are more inline with the rebels than BLi, so if we make our way there, we’ll be golden.”

Kyle punches Helena’s shoulders. “This really could work. We’ll meet at the wall at 8:30ish?”

Ani-Max nods. “Yeah, I’ll take out the other guards and I’ll get you through. That should be early enough.”

“How is Mike, by the way?” Kyle frowns. “Why isn’t he here?”

“It would be suspicious if both of us were out.” She shrugs, trying to keep a nonchalant air to her. “Besides, I’m still better than him at sneaking around and stuff. So I'm the one who explores at night. We’ve been trying to see if there were others like us for ages. You know?”

“Right. Let him in on the plan. We should have more details in about three days. I’ll steal that Drac map, and we can plan a proper course.”

“I should be out of beans by then.” She stands up, a thrill bubbling under her skin. She hasn’t felt this way in a long while. “See you then, guys.”

“I’m glad you’re on our side.”

-

She had two weeks to wean Mike off the pills. Okay, how the hell was she going to do that without him noticing, and without him reporting her?

She can’t just leave him behind. They did not go through hell for the past two years together just to leave him when the going gets tough. She wouldn’t leave Show Pony or Hot Chimp or Cherri or Dr. D or hell, even Tommy behind. She can’t leave him behind, not now, not ever.

But this does bring up a few issues.

She needs to get him sober enough to act as a Scarecrow. Christ, this will be hard.

It takes her a few days to have a proper plan. Ani-Max, Kyle, and Monster have plotted out a location for them to hit up. It’s all up to her to try and get Mike off the pills before then.

She steals his medication that fifth day and pours it down the toilet. When he wakes up, she pretends she’s been asleep the whole time, and watches as he fumbles around for his pill bottle. 

“Strange,” he mutters. “I always keep it here.”

“Strange,” she repeats, equally monotonously. “Perhaps you’re in need of a refill?”

“Perhaps.” He slips out of bed and she watches as he goes about his day, robotic as ever. She hopes to god this will work like she needs it too.

When she gets home from work later that night, Mike is a few minutes late. She tamps down her excitement at his arrival, hoping he’s sobered up by now. It’s been plenty of hours, so he should be at least a little less fogged up. Not perfect, but not robotic.

He arrives with a new pill bottle in his hand. 

“You stopped by the pharmacy?” She drones, trying her damndest to sound uninterested. 

“Yes. I mentioned to one of my superiors I ran out of my medication, and they let me leave to get more.”

She winces. God fucking damn it. He probably popped one right after he got the new bottle. Shit.

-

Okay, plan two.

She managed to convince Monster Kid to trade in a few things for some false sugar pills. Mike always takes two pills, and if she replaces one with a fake pill, this should be enough to get him to clear up even a little, or to just realise something is wrong.

She’s not sure if going it slow is a good call, considering they only have eight days until they try to sober him up. But hey, pouring out his entire bottle of pills didn’t work, might as well try to do the exact opposite, she supposes.

It doesn’t seem to be working for the first four days. But on day five, Mike does something completely unexpected. 

They wake up in the morning and they get ready together. Mike usually leaves first, since today his shift is earlier than hers. He pulls on his jacket, prepared to leave, and moves from their bedroom past the kitchen towards the door. Helena is situated in the kitchen, drinking black coffee and trying to stop herself from grimacing at the taste.

Mike pauses next to her, kisses her cheek, and says, “Love you honey. See you later.”

He then walks right out the door without a second thought. Helena’s fingers move up to touch her cheek. She can’t remember the last time they kissed. 

-

Fuck, it’s not enough, though. Mike’s still pretty empty inside, and they only have three days. Fuck, she doesn’t know what to do.

-

The day before they’re set to leave, she pours out all his pills that evening, right before he gets home. He takes four pills a day: two in the morning, and two before bed. Hopefully, the eight hour period they will be asleep for should be enough to knock a little bit of sense into him before she forces him into escaping with her. She would just replace the two pills with sugar pills, but she’s worried about a placebo effect. 

The scarecrow’s outfit is shoved in the back of the closet. The air dye is under the bathroom sink, ready for use. They should wake up early enough for her to be able to dye it, she hopes. Well, she’ll get up before Mike. It’s fine.

Mike gets back from work. He checks his dresser and frowns when he sees his prescription bottle empty again. “Weird. I thought I still had another three days.”

“I think you ought to get yourself checked out again,” she states. “These memory issues seem to be a problem.”

Mike nods. “Yes. I’ll get a new prescription tomorrow, and Wednesday, I should get myself checked out. This is rather strange.”

They fall asleep together, and she hopes when she wakes up, he’ll be the Mike she knows and loves.

-

Helena wakes up earlier than usual and gets to work. She chops off as much hair as she can manage and styles herself some decently straight bangs. If people don’t look too hard at her, she thinks she could pass as a droid. Her darker skin colour could be a distraction, but not a bad one- it’s not unheard of for people to request droids with darker skin- they think it’s exotic and sexy.

She grimaces at the thought, and then begins to bleach her hair.

It takes a while, but she manages to be thorough. It makes her hair light enough for the blue to take hold in her hair. It wouldn’t last a shower, so thankfully this is a one day mission she’s getting into.

She’s already managed to sew herself some lingerie (thank you, years of sewing uniforms). She checks herself out in the mirror, fretting over every stray hair and thread. She thinks she looks the part. God, she hopes she does.

There’s movement from the bed. She checks the time- 7:55. He wakes up just like he always does. Shit, they better hurry.

“Mike, honey?” she croons.

Mike glances up from his spot on the bed, Slowly his tired expression turns into one of confusion, then one of concern. “Am I…. In the wrong apartment?”

“Ha, ha.” She shoves the scarecrow uniform at him. “Put this on.”

“Wait… I…”

“Put it on.”

The pills do make people a lot more complacent, and a lot more subjectable to following orders. Mike hesitates, still confused, and still trying to overcome the haze of the pills, but he begins to slip on the uniform. He glances back at her, still obviously uncertain about what’s happening. “Helena?”

“You need to do exactly as I say, or else we will die.”

“Helena.” Mike’s confusion turns to alarm. “What’s happening?”

“We’re breaking out of Battery City. Now let’s go, we don’t have time to waste.”

“Helena, no, we can’t do that, we can’t go against BLi-”

“Wake up, Mike.” She grabs his hands. “You have to wake up. BLi doesn’t give a shit about any of us. Don’t you remember serving in those wars? Don’t you remember all the fear and anger and rage you felt? All the joy and hope and terror? When was the last time you’ve felt something?”

Mike hesitates. He rubs his face, appearing overwhelmed. “Helena, I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to. But follow my lead.” Her tone turns sharp. She needs him to understand. “Let’s go.”

Hesitantly, he nods his head. She pushes open the door and slips through the back way out of the apartment complex, away from the secretary. She picks the lock of the back door and ushers Mike outside.

“You’re Scarecrow Poison,” she announces, explaining their cover story. “I’m Blue. We’re heading towards the Lobby to hook up. Do you understand?”

“I- not really - what’s-?”

“Do you understand this cover story?”

“... yes. I’m Scarecrow Poison. You’re Blue. We’re heading towards the Lobby to hook up.”

“Good.” Hearing him echo her almost perfectly didn’t settle right in her stomach. “Let’s keep going.”

No one passes them a second glance. People don’t really like scarecrows, and they often avert their attention. They don’t want to catch the eye of a scarecrow, because a scarecrow won’t hesitate to punish you if you do something they don’t like.

They manage to get into the Lobby without an issue. There’s not too many people milling about, thankfully, considering how early it is, so they manage to avoid a scene.

Mike remains deathly quiet, keeping his eyes on the road and straying no farther. They pass through the Neon District, and no one bothers to give them the time of day. Droids litter the streets, all sorts of types. One is just a torso, shouting about how Destroya is soon to resurge and bring back penance for BLi. There’s a few pornodroids milling about, checking each other’s hair and lingerie before starting another day’s work.

They can see the wall in the near distance. There are three figures waiting for them, and she knows them to be Kyle, Monster, and Ani-Max. They’re almost there, just a little bit closer.

“Exterminator Flare?”

They stop in their tracks. Mike slowly turns around, trying to keep his fear from showing, and honestly, he’s not doing great. She glances back as well, and sees a scarecrow looming over them.

“You’re supposed to be on the other side of the city?” The scarecrow barks. “Not getting a blow job from a human vibrator. Christ, I get it, but can’t you wait until after work?”

“I’m Scarecrow Poison,” Mike manages to choke out. “Though Flare does look quite a bit like me.”

The scarecrow watches him for a few minutes. “Oh, a new recruit, huh? Okay. Don’t waste all your carbons on this one.” He eyes her warily. “The red ones are where it’s really at.” He winks, and then spins on his heel, walking the other way.

Mike sucks in a deep, deep breath, while Helena sighs. Thank fucking god.

They manage to travel a few more feet before, suddenly: “Hey! There’s not a scarecrow named Poison! Wait, what’s your ID number?”

Shit.

Mike and her make eye contact, and that’s when she bursts into a run, yanking Mike along as she grabs his wrist. Mike yelps as they start to sprint towards the wall, and the scarecrow is pursuing them, shouting at them to stop. Oh shit, he’s pulled out his gun.

Helena falls behind Mike, trying to cover his ass. He’s terrified out of his mind, trying to keep his feet going while processing who they’re getting chased by. She picked up a crumbled brick and manages to dodge a shot to her arm. 

Fuck, the crow is trying to radio his allies. She throws the brick as hard as she can, and it manages to hit him square in the chest. The crow loses wind and tumbles to the ground, the blaster flying out of his hand.

She hesitates, then backtracks and picks up the gun. Mike is watching her in horror, staring at the body of the crow before she rejoins him.

“Do you trust me?” She whispers.

“I…” 

She offers her hand.

“Yes.”

He takes her hand. 

“Run away with me,” she croons. It’s not an order.

“Anytime you want.”

They sprint the rest of the way together. In the distance, they can hear sirens blaring as BLi launches a Drac patrol to head their way.

They hit the wall, and Ani-Max grabs her hand while Kyle grabs Mike’s. Kyle huffs, almost laughing. “Damn! You guys actually made it!”

“Almost,” Ani-Max states. “There’s a van right over there. Get in and don’t look back.”

The door of the van swings open. Monster is sitting in the driver’s seat with a shit eating grin. “Come in, fuckfaces! We’ve got some neutrals to scare!”

Kyle shoves Mike in the back seat and piles in after him. Mike is still staring at Monster, clearly trying to process this new turn of events. “Wait, why is that kid driving?”

“Hit the gas!” Ani-Max screams.

The van lurches to a start just as the first BLi van rushes into view. Helena straps on a seat belt, not willing to die a stupid death when they’re just about to escape. Kyle, Ani-Max, and Monster are all screaming, and Ani-Max is messing with the radio dials.

Suddenly, music thrums throughout the van. Helena’s heart beats in time to the bass which rattled the skeleton of the car and her own bones. 

“Stop you’re preaching right there cause I really don’t care and I’ll do it again!”

Helena smiles. 

Mike glances up from the back of the seat. There’s fear in his eyes, and he’s trying to even out his breathing, but when they meet eyes, Mike smiles at her.

-

It’s a rocky start to this new crew. Mike suffers through withdrawals for a while, leaving him virtually out of commission. Helena tries her best to help him, but this is something he has to work out himself.

They hit the neutral settlement and manage to get some directions to a supposed rebel base out in zone three. There’s a radio announcer out there who can help turn anyone into rebels.

Ani-Max and Kyle help catch her up to speed on the rebellion. Apparently, a bunch of veterans managed to escape getting sent back home and stayed in the desert. They decided that BLi needed to be taken down, and have been trying to get under BLi’s skin for as long as the war’s been over.

There’s been a few others who have tried to take down BLi. But now, the sheer number of people in the desert has skyrocketed, and there’s been more and more talks of rebellion from previous neutral settlements.

It’s nice to know that there’s others like them out there.

The road trip takes a few days. Ani-Max is the only one who knows how to fucking drive. Monster can, yes, but Monster should not. He nearly drove off a cliff, wanting to do a cheap trick he learned from a video game. Helena and Mike went to war before they could learn, and Kyle is just… not good at it.

Ani-Max can’t drive for days on end, though, so they frequently take breaks and sleep in the car on their way to the radioshack.

They keep the radio on, listening to the broadcast the neutrals told them the rebel radiohead was on. Apparently, he’s pretty big in the zones.

“This is your favourite death defying radio wave,” a voice calls the second day they’re out. “I’m here to give a traffic report, but we’ve got better news. Five undisclosed people have broken out of Battery City, creating quite a bit of a stir in their wake. Hopefully, the wicked crows haven’t found them yet and the Witch hasn’t kissed their lips. Things seem to be turning like a record in our favour as more and more citizens are breaking away from BLi’s iron grip. Keep your masks on, your pants up, and your fists tight. Until next time, dust bunnies.”

“He’s talking about us!” Monster cries. “How the hell did he know about us?”

“I understood like, three words he said,” Kyle announces.

“I guess we’ll find out when we get there,” Ani-Max states. “You know what? Monster, take the wheel. I wanna stretch my legs and take a nap.”

Immediately, everyone in the van started to scream. Monster tries to climb over Kyle and kicks Mike in the nose, desperately clawing his way to the driver's seat. “Let me the fuck at it!”

-

Finally, they make it to the coordinates they were given. A tiny little building barely held together appears on the horizon, and everyone begins to cheer until Mike tells them to shut up because he’s got a killer headache. He’s a bit meaner now on his withdrawals.

Ani-Max swings to a stop. Monster stopped driving the first twenty minutes he was let back into the driver's seat due to trying to do wheelies in a fucking van. To be fair, they shouldn’t have let a thirteen year old at the wheel.

“So should we, like, knock?” Helena asks as they pile out of the van. 

Ani-Max shrugs. “Do you think they have proper etiquette out here?”

“What if no one’s home?” Mike scratches at his skin, staring at the door.

“I got this.” Kyle rolls his shoulder, and then, to the horror of everyone watching, slams his entire body on the door like a battering ram.

The door breaks under him, and he goes sprawling to the floor.

“What the fuck!” Is a shriek heard seconds later.

Three figures come sprinting into view while Kyle remains on the floor, complaining about the splinters in his shoulder. Ray guns are drawn on all parties, and the threatening buzz of electricity hums for a few moments as everyone processes what’s happening.

“Wait, Show Pony?” Helena asks.

“Helena?” Show Pony shouts.

“Helena?” Hot Chimp repeats.

“Hot Chimp?”

“Hot Chimp?” Mike echoes.

“Mike Milligram?” Cherri Cola adds.

“Wait, that’s you Mike?” Show Pony practically tells.

“Show Pony?” 

“Mike’s here?” Hot Chimp repeats.

“Hot Chimp?”

“Cherri?” Helena cries.

“Helena?”

“Cherri Cola?” Mike repeats.

“Oh my fucking god!” Monster shouts, exasperated.

“Dr. Death Defying.”

Dr. Death Defying appears from the hallway, grinning mischievously.

“Dr. D!” Mike and Helena both shout.

“Okay, have we all met now?” Dr. D asks. “I’m getting a headache trying to follow this.”

“It’s them!” Show Pony shrieks. They drop their gun to the floor and sprint straight towards Mike. Pony tackles them to the ground and snags Helena’s shirt sleeve, taking her down with them. The three of them fall to the ground, kicking up dust. Mike moans in pain but Pony latches on to him like a koala.

Hot Chimp drops her gun. “C’mon Cherri, we’re joining the pile!”

“What-“

Hot Chimp grabs Cherri’s wrist and yanks him down with her. There’s a collective “oof” from Mike, Helena, and Pony when Hot Chimp and Cherri Cola fall on top of them. Still, no one seems to mind the added weight, and the five of them stay a muddled mess on the desert floor while Dr. D watches them fondly.

“Aw, this is so sweet!” Kyle cries, wiping tears away from his eyes. There’s still splinters stuck in his hand, but he doesn’t even seem to be aware of it. “Reminds me of how I reunited with Ani-Max!”

“You judo flipped me onto the ground before trying to dogpile me,” Ani-Max recounts. “I literally have a scar from that.”

“All I remember is the hug.”

Reluctantly, the pile of young adults began to struggle to their feet. Show Pony talks their heads off, trying to make up for lost time as they enter the small shack, and they pile onto the couches in the living room, carefully avoiding the CDs and cassettes tapes strewn about. 

“So, no kids yet?” Show Pony teases, poking Helena in the stomach.

“God, I forgot how annoying you were,” Helena bemoans.

“Come on! All this time and not a single Show Pony Jr?”

“We are not naming our child that,” Mike states flatly. “We are not going to fucking curse them right off the bat.”

“You guys suck!”

“Can we swap stories now?” Hot Chimp whined. “I want to brag about my new girlfriend!”

“What?!” Helena and Mike are on the edge of their seat. “Woah, spill! Where is she?!”

“Let’s start from the beginning,” Dr. D chides.

“Ugh!” Pony huffs. “Lame.”

“Okay, so like, we all got separated when we got sent back home? So I got sent to the northern part of the city and I got offered a job at a news station,” Hot Chimp begins.

“So did I!” Pony adds.

“Yeah, no one cares.” Hot Chimp dodges the pillow Pony throws at her. “Anyway, so I met this cute girl who goes by Newsagogo now, and we really hit it off. She was a reporter for BLi, but she actually uses these reports to send back to the rebellion when she gets important information. Cool, right?”

“Yeah, she got me and Chimp off the pills,” Pony adds.

“Yep! But then BLi found out that she was doing this, because she’s been doing it for a few years, and then Pony and I fled together with Newsagogo! And here we are!”

“Where’s Newsagogo?” Mike asks.

“She’s at our radio station,” Chimp says with a proud smile. “We’re 99.5! I’m a DJ and she’s a news reporter for the hot gossip here in the zones. Anyway, I came here to bug Pony and Dr. D, but got you guys instead!”

“A real treat!” Helena states. “What about you, Cherri?”

Cherri glances at Dr. D. “Well, Dr. D, Mad Gear, Tommy, and I all managed to slip back into the desert. We’ve been here since the beginning, and I’ve been helping Dr. D establish this radio station. I write poetry for the poetry corner segment.”

“He’s really good!” Hot Chimp cheers, musing up his hair.

“Oh, where's Tommy?” Mike asks, curious.

“He runs a store in zone four.” Pony rolls his eyes. “Capitalist whore.”

“People have to make a living somehow,” Dr. D chides.

“So what about you?” Cherri asks. “What happened while you guys were out of the picture?”

Helena launches on this huge tirade. It feels like years since she’s been able to talk for so long, and she loves every minute. God, she misses talking and telling stories.

“Christ!” Pony roars out. “Mike, are you o-the-fuck-kay?”

“I’m getting there,” he states, rubbing his head.

“I can’t fucking believe you didn’t tell us he was still on the drugs. We would have helped you!” Kyle cried.

“Would you?”

“I knew,” Monster added.

“Yeah, probably not,” Kyle decides. He then processes Monster’s words. “Wait, you fucking knew?”

“Yeah.”

“Man, you fucking suck! No loyalty!”

“Only sucking here is you on other people’s dicks!”

Kyle hits Monster, who then hits him back, which then escalated into a petty slap fight. Ani-Max stares at them with an empty expression. “God, I’m so glad I don’t have to deal with these bitches alone anymore. Can you imagine being stuck with these assholes as your sole confidents?”

“Sounds like hell,” Mike admits.

“Fuck you!” Monster and Kyle both shout before returning to their fight. Despite the fact that Kyle is buff as fuck, Monster is still winning.

“I’m just glad it all worked out okay,” Cherri decides. “Do you guys know what you want to do, now that you’re out here?”

“We want to be a part of the rebellion,” Monster states, stopping the slap fight to give the rest of them a serious expression.

“Exactly,” Helena confirms. “Things in the city are terrible, and we want to make a difference.”

“I think I know just the people for you guys to contact,” Dr. D says, rubbing his chin. “Code Red and Code Blue. They’re the spectacular daredevils that usually manage to pull off some pretty risque missions, and knowing you guys, you won’t want to stick to the shadows like the juvie halls in the city.”

“But before that!” Hot Chimp stands up and reaches out for Ani-Max, tugging at his Drac uniform. “Come on! We have got to get you guys out of these clothes! Being in the desert, being a part of the rebellion- our whole shtick is being full of colour. I know for a fact Newsie would be happy to help you guys get some new threads- she knows all the best spots in the zones for clothes. Whatcha say? A little makeover time?”

“That sounds like so much fun!” Kyle shouts. “Oh my god, please!”

“How could we say no?” Helena pumps a fist. “We have to go!”

“Man, I was wondering why you guys dress so weird,” Mike states, glancing at Show Pony’s bizarre crop top and leggings. “But it’s just standard, huh?”

Pony hits Mike in the head, playful but a bit too hard from the groan it elicits from Mike. “Blah blah blah, don’t make fun of the couture or you’ll get kissed by the Witch.”

“Once we get you all new clothes, you’ll understand.” Hot Chimp nods to herself. “I’ll call Newsie. We’ll head out ASAP. I’m not sure how long I can stand looking at you monochrome bitches.”

“I’m glad we all saw each other again,” Cherri says, smiling genuinely at them all. “It’s nice to see you guys. You’ll have to keep in contact, all of you. I think you guys are going to become very busy.”

“Fuck yeah, poet boy!” Ani-Max claps Cherri’s back. “We’ll all keep in touch.”

Hot Chimp shakes her car keys. “What are we waiting for? We’re burning stardust here. Let’s go!”

-

Newsagogo yanks open the door to the station, ignores the five other people swarmed at her door, and picks up Hot Chimp before pecking a kiss on her lips. It’s a cute but rather comedic scene, watching this tiny woman pick up Hot Chimp, who towers over every single grown man in Helena’s life.

“Babe!” Newsie cries. “I told you to stop picking up strays.”

“Newsie, these are some of the people I served with.” Hot Chimp points at each of them, listing off their names. “Helena and Mike Milligram, Kyle 100%, and Ani-Max… and uh…”

“Monster.”

“Yeah, Monster.”

“You served with this kid?”

“No, I’m just a bonus character.”

“Well, anyway.” Hot Chimp pushes the door open further. “Come on in, kiddos. We’ve got some clothes for you. There’s also a dumpster off of zone one, but that’s usually flooded with Dracs. Tommy’s got some clothes and hair dye, if you’re interested.”

“Hair dye…” Mike echoes, sounding interested.

“I always wanted to be blond,” Kyle adds, humming.

“Well, find some clothes first, then we’ll go on a road trip to Tommy’s.” Hot Chimp leads them to a back room. “I’m sure he misses all of you.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t bet on it,” Ani-Max states, and Helena shakes her head. Tommy probably isn’t capable of missing anyone except his wallet.

“Why do you guys have so much clothes?” Monster asks, gazing into the room Hot Chimp’s pushing them into.

“There’s a bunch of people breaching from Battery City nowadays, and we want to offer them as much as we can. A lot of people tend to forge new identities out here, and we want to help them get comfortable. So we go scavenging a lot, both for ourselves and for the kiddos like you who end up in the desert.” Newsagogo picks up a red jacket and glances at Kyle. “Red seems like your colour.”

Kyle snatches it up. “You’re damn right. Holy fuck, are these nipples drawn on it?”

“Oh, sorry-”

“No, no. I love it.”

“We’ll leave you to it.” Hot Chimp and Newsagog share a small smile. “Pick whatever you want. Nothing’s off limits.”

Ani-Max is drawn to the animal skin printed jacket and mask in the corner. Monster is snatching up some strange Frankenstein gloves. Kyle is trying on the jacket.

Mike is picking at a black leather jacket. Helena picks it up and winks. “Come on, try it on.”

She helps him into the jacket. It looks like it fits like a glove, and Mike smiles. “I like it a lot.”

“Time to be Mike fucking Milligram!”

“Look at this shit!” Kyle’s got on 3D movie glasses. “Everything’s fucked up looking.”

“So it’s like your normal vision,” Ani-Max deadpans, earning a high five from Monster.

“My eyesight is not bad!” Kyle huffs. “Everything’s just red and blue.”

They sift through the clothes a bit more, searching for some better pants and shoes. Helena’s stuck to a pretty simple colour scheme, olive greens and blacks. She thinks she might dip into the goth aesthetique she saw from some of the people they passed on their way to Dr. D’s. Mike also keeps their look pretty simple. Ani-Max, however, is grabbing everything that hurts Helena’s eyes. Kyle sticks to the reds and black, keeping the strange glasses on. Monster is just grabbing whatever appeals to him, and absolutely none of it matches.

They shuffle out of the room, finding Newsie and Hot Chimp kissing in the living room. They break away to glance at the newcomers, and Newsagogo claps at the sight. “Look at you, super studs! Looking cute!”

“You all are absolutely hard to look at,” Hot Chimp states. “I love you guys and your awful fashion. You guys are looking more and more like rebels.”

“Well now that you like it, the next question is, can you act the part?”

-

Tommy Chow Mein’s head swivels up at the sight of seven horribly dressed young adults entering his shop. There’s not even a flicker of surprise that passes over him as he seems to scan each one of them. He goes back to reading his magazine.

“Hello? Helena tries, waving her hand in front of his face, blocking the magazine. Mike snickers. “Dude, we haven't seen each other for months. Wanna say hi or something?”

“Not really.” Still, he glances back up and there’s an obvious smile fighting to curl up his lips. “I’m glad to see you troublemakers are still alive. I figured you would have gotten yourselves killed in Bat City. You definitely weren’t great at conforming.”

“And that’s why we’re here.” She laughs. “It’s great to see you, Tommy.”

“I’d say the same, but I’m not much of a liar.”

“A crook, but an honest one,” Mike adds, glancing at the prices on some of the trinkets near the counter.

“Bingo.” He fans himself with his magazine. “Now, what the fuck are you guys here for?”

“Hair dye.”

“You wanna fuck up your aesthetics even more?” He’s staring openly at Ani-Max and his animal print jacket and then at Kyle and his red jacket. “Have at it. Fifth aisle to your left.”

Kyle rushes towards the aisle, clearly excited. “Holy fuck, what colour should I get?”

“I want to get black like my heart,” Monster states, his bangs hiding his face.

“So you want hair as white as snow,” Ani-Max cracks, causing Monster to punch him.

Kyle picks up a bottle of pure bleach. “Hey, this should work, right?”

While the others try to guide Kyle to a proper hair colour, Helena turns her attention to Mike. He’s studying the section with curious eyes, appearing thoughtful over every colour. “Anything you're partial to?”

He smiles at that. “Yeah, hold on.”

He reaches up and pulls down a brightly coloured box. It’s very clearly pink, and a bright one at that. He grins at Helena. “Whatcha think?”

“You know pink is my favourite colour.”

“That;’s the point.”

‘Aw, you’re so sweet.” She kisses his nose, causing him to giggle like a school boy.

“Absolutely disgusting,” Monster deadpans. “I think I’m going to hurl.”

“Okay, I think I’m going blond,” Kyle finally announces. He has put the bucket of bleach down in favour of a yellow hair dye box.

“Are you trying to be a natural blond?” Ani-Max asks.

“Yeah?”

“This is the same colour as piss. Have you ever seen a blond person before?”

“Must you people undermine everything I do!?”

“You don’t even know what that word means!” Monster hits his shoulder.

“You don’t always have to say true things!”

Mike sighs. “Can we pay for this shit or are you guys going to keep arguing?”

“Come on, piss boy.” Ani-Max pushes Kyle towards the counter. “Go get your hair dye.”

“You guys suck.”

“Not as much as you.”

“For the last time, I’m not gay!”

“Allegedly!”

“Ugh!”

“Go, gay boy, go!” Helena cheers.

“Fuck you all!”

-

When they finally head back to Dr. D’s to crash for the next few nights until they manage to find an abandoned building to suit them, Dr. D has a mischievous smile on his face.

“Why look here, girls. The kids I was talking to you about have just arrived.”

They stumble into the living room, finding two women dressed in red, white, and blue with colourful hair staring back at them. Cherri’s on the couch, scribbling madly, ignoring everyone in the room. Show Pony is nowhere to be seen.

“I’m Code Blue,” the girl with blue hair says with a wave. “She’s Code Red.”

“That’s not hard to remember,” Monster comments. “I’m Monster.”

“Helena.”

“Mike.”

“Ani-Max.”

“Kyle 100%.”

“A pleasure,” the redhead states, though she doesn’t look very impressed. Code Blue seems excited, though.

“These kids are eager to help our cause,” Dr. D begins. “And they’re all pretty skilled. They served in the Helium Wars and know their way decently around a gun. I know you guys mentioned broadening out your circle from just working as a partnership, and if I was to recommend anyone to you, it’d be them.”

“Too many people,” Code Red states flatly.

“But think of all the missions we can do now!” Code Blue is ecstatic. “Look at all this man power!” She pokes Kyle’s muscled arm, and her eyes light up. “Look!”

“These kids just escaped the claws of our oppressors.” Code Red clearly distrusts them. “I’m sure you all are very nice, but…”

“Just give it a shot, girls.” Dr. D shrugs. “What do we have to lose?”

“Everything.”

“Nothing.” Blue wraps an arm around Mike’s shoulders. “Come on! We need help, and they’re volunteering. If these kids have even the slightest bit of a drive Dr. D says they do, they can help us.”

Code Red sighs. “Whatever. We’re all doomed to an untimely death anyway. Might as well make it a quick down fall.”

Blue cheers. “Aw, she’s warming up to you guys already!”

-

They settle down in an abandoned antique shop for quite a while. They try to bond together a bit before trying out on missions. No one is a hundred percent comfortable with each other, even the core five. They weren’t close during the wars, anyway, so it really is like meeting someone for the first time.

They learn all sorts of facts about each other.

Monster is actually fourteen. He and Kyle are step brothers, and he loves the colour green. He hates sweet things and prefers sour candies and foods. He likes scorpions but is scared of spiders. He’s afraid of the dark but refuses to admit, so he’ll sleep with Kyle on the guise that Kyle is the one afraid of the dark, and Kyle doesn’t correct him.

Kyle is the oldest in the group. He’s honestly dumb as rocks, but he’s a really nice guy. He’s been taking care of Monster since their mom died when they were young, and their father died in the war as well. He’s terrified of dogs but loves lizards. He burns very, very easily, unlike his brother, who can’t seem to burn.

Ani-Max is the second oldest. He’s twenty two and wishes he could have gone to college. He knows hand to hand combat but he can’t shoot for shit. He loves exotic animals and animal patterns. He wanted to be a zoologist, but then zoos began to disappear when people began killing the animals for meat during a food shortage. He loves all animals but he’s terrified of insects.

Code Red and Blue are dating, and have been together for the past five years (“There sure are a lot of lesbian in these zones,” Monster muttered to himself). Code Red is a lot angrier, a lot more prone to violent bouts. She’s not afraid to say what’s on her mind and is easily blunt. She served as a spy like Show Pony but worked full time during the Helium Wars in an undercover operation. 

Code Blue worked in that same operation with her, which is why the two of them got so close. Blue is a lot nicer and a lot more energetic. She and Helena can talk for hours on end, jumping from topic to topic and still have more things to cover. She’s super nice, but she also says everything on her mind, though in a different manner than Red. 

Slowly, a trust between them begins to form, even from Red. Helena’s trust came easy, because she could tell they were all good people. She doesn’t want to sound sappy, but she can see a pretty bright future for them, and she’s excited to see it all bloom into fruition.

-

Dr. D sends them on a few missions. Show Pony is working undercover in the city and sends them information as often as possible. Dr. D usually sends them on missions to take down stationed Drac patrols before they get too far into their patrol as Show Pony sends back their schedules.

Helena understands the importance of taking down Dracs, she does. They’re the lifeblood of BLi- they’re the feet BLi stands on. Without this man power, Bli would have very little power to enforce their rule with.

There are three types of Dracs, so she’s learned. FIrst, there's the Dracs that are corpses. Maks placed on the recently deceased can cause their body to work and turn them into perfect, mindless drones. It’s a terrifying prospect to learn that even in death, you're not safe from BLi’s sharp talons. The Dracs are where the term Draculoid came from- since they are, in all manners of the word, undead.

Second, there are those who have had the mask forcibly placed on their head but are still alive. The mask strips them of their soul and also turns them into drones. They’re a bit more smarter, but because their souls are being torn in several different directions, they’re not that much intelligent. They’re the most common.

The third and least common are the Dracs who wear a modified version of the mask. They’re perfectly well medicated to keep them from experiencing any emotion, and the mask doesn’t harm their soul. They’re a lot smarter than their two other comrades.

Helena knows that she’s usually not killing those sorts of Dracs, but the idea that she could be harming potential allies does hurt. Still, war is war, and these people are on the wrong side. She can’t debate the morality of fighting those who didn’t choose their side when they have a cause they need to fight for.

So they slay as many Dracs as she can and she tries to ignore the unease in her stomach. She’s thankful she hasn’t become numb to killing, yet, and hopefully she’ll manage to keep it this way. Ani-Max and Kyle don’t seem as bothered by the idea of killing Dracs, but she knows that Mike is shaken up by having to go back to killing people again. They try to comfort each other, but the simple matter is that this is something they need to resolve within themselves.

Code Blue and Red don’t mind killing Dracs much. They don’t view them as human, not anymore. BLi either kills them and is using their body or has stolen their souls in a literal and/or metaphorical sense. She understands their perspective, but she still doesn’t like it.

Monster isn’t allowed to fight. He’s there for moral support, and he’s allowed to help Ani-Max build bombs but they won’t let him near a gun. They teach him how to use it, just in case, but they don’t let him keep one. Monster protests it as much as he can, but Mike takes him aside one day, and while no one knows what the conversation amounted to, Monster doesn’t argue about being too young to fight anymore.

Helena knows Mike is terrified for Monster. The kid reminds Mike of himself, forced into a war at way too young of an age. Mike doesn’t want Monster killing anyone until he absolutely has too.

They keep Monster away from the war for as long as they can.

-

Reports of their actions against BLi makes its way into the city, according to Show Pony. They’re on a radio call with them one night, and they tell them some juicy inside information.

“You guys are causing a fuss up in the city,” they say proudly. “Everyone is calling you killjoys for trying to protest BLi. You’re ruining all the fun.”

“Killjoys,” Code Red repeats. “Now that's a kick ass name.”

“That should be our group name!” Kyle suggests. “You know, like the Avengers or the Justice League or whatever. We can be the Killjoys.”

“That does sound pretty cool,” Helena admits, humming. “I’m down if everyone else is.”

“You are all fucking nerds,” Monster whines, but then says, “but fine. I guess we’re the Killjoys now.”

“Oh, I love this!” Show Pony croons. “Take back the words they toss at you and turn them back into yours. That’s some poetry right there.”

“For someone who’s been gone for the past few weeks, you sound suspiciously like Cherri.”

“We have the same taste for drama.”

-

“So I’ve been doing some research,” Monster begins one day. They’re gathered around the kitchen table (an ancient pool table they salvaged from the dumpster in zone one), eating Power Pup. Strange how dog food is in such high demand in the city. She knows rich folks like to collect pets.

“Uh-huh,” Kyle mumbles, spewing out a bit of dog food as he speaks.

“And, so, you guys heard of trans people, right?”

“Yeah,” Red states, and Blue nods.

“Huh?” Ani-Max grunts.

“You know, people who don’t identify with their gender they were assigned at birth with? So they’ll change genders.”

“You can do that?”

Mike has gone completely stiff next to her. Helena watches him carefully, but his eyes are drawn solely on Monster. He’s stopped eating, his attention fully gained.

“Yep! There’s a bunch of people in the zones who are trans. Like, a person who was born a woman decides to become a man. Or vice versa or whatever.”

“Yeah,” Blue agrees. “Newsie’s trans.”

“Oh?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Anyway,” Monster begins, waving a spoon to gather their attention. “So, know that y’all know what that means, I have an announcement.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m trans.” Monster nods. “I want to be a woman now.”

“Oh cool!” Kyle gives Monster a loving noogie. “I always wanted a little sister.”

“So like…” Ani-Max wrinkles his forehead. “So what changes now?”

“Not much. But I use she/her pronouns now. And like, call me a girl or sis or whatever. You know?”

“You still want to be called Monster?” Helena can’t help but think of Frankie when she looks at Monster.

“Oh yeah, that’s perfectly fine.”

Mike pats Monster’s back. “Thanks for telling us. You’re a great girl, Monster.”

“Damn right I am.” She tosses her black hair out of her face. “I’m the prettiest bitch in this building.”

“No, that’s me!” Kyle argues.

“It’s Ani-Max,” Mike deadpans.

“It’s Mike,” Blue giggles.

For some reason, Mike’s cheeks get a bit pink. Helena laughs, and leans into his shoulder. “I can agree with you there.”

-

For the next few days, there’s something clearly on Mike’s mind.

He’s distracted on their missions. He still fights decently, but he’s a bit slower than usual, and there’s a strange, almost faraway look in his eyes whenever she sees him. There’s something going on in his head, and she desperately wants to know what it is.

She doesn’t ask, though. If she doesn, she knows she’ll only end up scaring him away. Unless it’s a huge problem, Mike doesn’t like being confronted. He prefers to figure things out and then present his issues to others. He likes to stew.

It took Helena a while to get used to it. She likes to just speak whatever is on her mind. She’s not good at hiding her feelings, which has its own positives and negatives.

So she waits for him to open up. And she’ll meet him halfway.

-

She gets her answer a week later.

It’s night time, and she and Mike are up on the roof of the old antique building. They like to spend their nights stargazing together, just like they did during the wars. It brings her a bit of comfort for some reason.

The nuclear attacks that lead to the decimation of zone seven have blocked out almost all the stars in the sky now. The radiation that’s rotted the atmosphere makes the inky black sky strangely iridescent. It’s an interesting but sad sight, but they still try to pick out what little stars are left and draw new constellations.

The demolition lovers have faded a bit, but she can still make them out. It’s odd, but that fact does bring her a bit of peace.

Right now, they’re both trying to sleep. They’re wrapped up tight in blankets and each other’s arms, though Mike isn’t reciprocating as much as usual. He’s on his back, staring up at the sky, and she can tell that he’s still awake.

“Helena?”

It’s barely even a whisper, a ghost of a breath sung into the night. She shifts a bit before giving her response. “I’m awake, babe. What’s up?”

“I…” He shifts this time, moving to face her. He pushes his head into her neck, however, keeping his face out of sight, his eyes obscured. She begins to quietly pet his hair, trying to offer some comfort to him. “It’s nothing.”

“Honey, you already have my attention. Whatever you wanna say, I promise I won’t judge you, now what’s on your mind?”

Silence bathes the night. She can hear both their breaths steadily puffing in the still air. Other than the beat of her heart, it’s deathly quiet.

“I don’t think I’m….” Mike gulps in her shoulder; she can feel his hesitation from the pressure of his body on hers. “I don’t feel like a man.”

She blinks. She shifts on her side to face him, wanting him to know that he has her full attention. He doesn’t look at her, clearly nervous over her reaction, and she doesn’t blame him. “Do you feel like a woman?”

“Yes. No.” Mike stumbles for the words, a rarity in anyone’s presence. It’s a vulnerability she’s caught him in. “I…. I don’t feel like either. Or maybe both. But I don’t…. I don’t think I’m a man or a woman…. I….”

He sighs, and she can see the fear in his eyes. “I sound crazy, I know, but god, I just. I don’t know, we can ignore this entire conversation…”

“No, no.” She grabs his arm, stopping him from shifting away from her, and she leans closer to him. He doesn’t look at her, but he doesn’t try to move away. “No, I’m happy you told me. Thank you for confiding in me, love.”

He smiles a bit at her words. She presses a kiss to his knuckles. “I had a friend like you before the wars. She tried to explain this to me before, said she wasn’t a woman or a man. It took me a while to get it, and it wasn’t until a while after she…” She hesitates on this part, on the specific word choice she should use, “died… but I think I sort of understand. She was still experimenting at the time, trying to figure out what pronouns she wanted and stuff. But she gave it a word: nonbinary.”

Mike repeats it back, tasting the word on his lips. He closes his eyes, and the tension in his body fades, gently. “Yes. That’s me.”

She runs her fingers through his hair, quietly contemplating. “Do you… want different pronouns? Like she or he, and I’ve heard people use they before.”

“I didn’t think I could get this far.” Mike remains quiet, contemplating. “I’m not sure…”

“You don’t have to make all your decisions now. I just want to make you more comfortable.”

“I really, really appreciate that. I think I would like to try ‘they’...”

“I think that matches you well.” She pecks their nose, and gives them a bright smile. “Do you want to change names, too?”

“No… Not yet. I don’t have a better one, yet.”

“We can brainstorm together sometime, if you want.”

They give her a tired, relief filled smile. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

-

There was a lot of push back from the desert when their crew first began.

Although there was a lot of talk about rebellion, there were very few people who actually wanted a rebellion. They didn’t want to put in the effort of actually trying to fight, of actively putting their oppressors into the ground. It was nice to think about and fantasize, but to take the steps that may lead to a revolution? Too difficult with little chance of success.

Helena wouldn’t say they’re becoming legends. She’s confident, but she’s not cocky. But people are beginning to listen to them, ti her, and people are beginning to pick up their guns and turn them against the enemy.

People are tired of wearing yellow, tired of being constantly fucked over and pushed around. A change needs to happen, a reformation and a dismantlement needs to occur. Society no longer serves the people and it is time to tear it back down and create a new one.

People are beginning to realise that Battery City won’t just fix itself. They may have found a small safe haven in the desert, but it’s not impermeable, it’s not forever. Dracs are still running amok, and BLi’s talons are sunk deep into the sands. They aren’t free from their oppressor, and they won’t be until they destroy BLi, brick by brick.

People are slowly rising up. Other people don the name of the killjoy and charge their guns and decide to fight. Helena knows that the Killjoys aren't the sole reason behind their actions, but it’s nice to know they might be an important inspiration. They could be a hope, and hope is a powerful fucking thing. It’s the fuel that burns for days on end, it’s the candle that lights up a whole room, it's the spark to a blazing and dangerous forest fire, it’s the beginning of a new universe.

Hope is all a killjoy needs.

And the people in the desert are slowly rekindling their own.

-

It’s another normal night.

Kyle, Ani-Max, and Monster are playing cards in the kitchen part of the antique shop. Blue and Red are trying to sleep in the “bed room” portion. Mike and Helena are staring up at the stars together on the roof, away from the mischief at play in the little rundown shack they call a home.

“We need to move soon,” Mike says, quietly. “We don’t want a Drac patrol finding us here.”

“Yeah. But this is the closest thing we have to a home.”

“I have you.”

She laughs at that. “You’re such a sap.”

“Only for you.” They smile at her, soft, gentle. They lean up against her, and their noses are just inches apart.

She kisses the top of their nose, and they blush. “You know. It’s been a while since it’s just been us together. Having some one-on-one time.”

“And well, we weren’t able to be very affectionate in Battery City.” Mike hums, a devilish smile perching on their lips. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“I’m gonna kiss the shot out of you?”

“We’re on the exact same page.”

“I’m hoping we’re on the same book, too. Maybe Romeo and Juliet.”

“Was that a book?”

“Hell if I know. BLi says Shakespere doesn’t even exist.”

They inch closer. Their lips are breaths apart. “The only thing I know for sure is how much I love you.”

“God, let me kiss your sweet face already.”

“Anytime.”

It starts off gentle enough, innocent enough. It’s just lips, soft and chapped and without much taste, and a little grit from the desert sand that clings to them like a second skin. It’s not much, until it becomes a bit rougher, until it becomes a bit more passionate. They’re clawing at each other, a little more desperate than usual, and when her hands begin to drift to their belt buckle, Mike pulls away.

“Sorry, was this too much?” Helena doesn’t want to push boundaries, but…

“No, no. I just wanna make sure we both want to do this.”

Helena pecks them on the nose. “I’m ready. Are you?”

“Yeah. I am.”

The belt comes off. The jacket gets tossed aside. Helena smiles.

-

Mike’s always been an early riser, so she’s not surprised when she sees they’re not still with her on the roof the next morning. She makes her way downstairs, towards the kitchen to snag some stale cereal and chug straight coffee grinds.

There’s voices that make her stop in her tracks. Everyone is in the kitchen except Red and Blue, who are outside, having their own make out session. She caught them on her way back inside, and it warmed her heart.

“Mike!” Ani-Max calls as Mike shuffles to the seat next to Kyle. “So, you scored past third base?”

“Oh, I think Mike got a fucking touchdown,” Kyle states. 

“Those aren’t the same sports.”

“Shut up, you’re fifteen.”

“I’m so proud of you!” Ani-Max continues.

“What.” Mike blinks a few times. “Literally what are we talking about?”

“You got laid!” Kyle states, point blank. “Finally! God, the tension between you two…. Suffocating.”

“What?!”

“Bro, you guys were fucking on the roof. We heard.” Monster melts into her chair. “We heard.”

“Oh CHRIST-”

“Mike got laid!” Kyle begins to chant.”

“Guys-”

“Mike got laid!” Ani-Max chimes in.

“No, wait-”

“Mike got laid!” Monster sing songs.

“Mike got laid! Mike got laid! Mike got laid!”

“I hate you all SO fucking much.”

“God, the only one who’s got less pussy than Mike is Kyle,” Monster says, almost sadly.”

“I’ve had sex before!”

“It was gay sex, so-”

“I’m not gay!”

“I think we all know that’s a lie,” Ani-Max states. “Bro, we literally had sex together.”

“Bro, we said no homo!”

“I lied.”

“What the fuck bro?!”

“Have fun with your sexuality crisis, Kyle.” Mike rubs their forehead. “I’m going to leave this conversation and wake up my wife.”

“With morning sex?”

“I’m going to stuff this spoon down your throat.”

“Kyle would like that, though.”

“SHUT UP!”

“Hey, kids.” Helena decides this is the opportunity to walk in. “Did Kyle finally come out? Good for him. Love is love.”

“I’m not gay!”

“Sure.” Helena sits next to Mike and kisses them on the cheek. Ani-Max lets out a low whistle but Mike’s glare manages to stop any comment.

“Anyway,” Mike begins. “I think we need to get moving. Dracs have begun patrolling this zone a bit stricter, and we don’t want them catching on that this is our homebase.”

-

Their call to fame happens the day they manage to blow up part of a medication factory on the southside of Battery City. It took a lot of work and planning, and it was really a success thanks to Show Pony and their ability to coerce information out of anyone they talk to.

Code Red and Blue managed to sneak them in by pretending to be droids from the Lobby. Mike, Helena, and Ani-Max managed to sneak inside the facility pretending to be Drac guards. Kyle and Monster created a distraction, and Ani-Max blew up a chunk of the manufacturing section while the resources to get their asses were diverted.

Hope begins to resurface within the desert community. 

Dr. D invites her onto his radio station, hoping she might be able to pass on some insight for new rebels. She does her damnedest, and while she might love talking, speeches aren’t really her thing.

But whatever words she manages to string together seems to be enough. People listen to her, and they know her words aren’t all bark and no bite. She has the actions to prove her dedication to this cause, the actions to prove that this cause may not be as hopeless as everyone thinks.

The desert listens to her, watches them, and begins to act.

There’s a spike in killjoy activity after that medication mission. People are beginning to figure out that this fight needs to happen, that they can't live day to day expecting other people to do this job for them. They have the power, just like the Killjoys, and they can use that power to help them.

It’s in that last year of what would later be called the Analog Wars by BLi does a resurgence of rebels come about. As the Killjoys’ popularity climbs, so do the amounts of people fleeing from Battery City. There’s always been a steady, small trickle of people who escape Battery City to find a new life, but that last year, it’s like the dams have bursted.

People escape into the desert, and they’re picking up guns to help the fight. There’s so many other revolutionaries who joined the fray, so many new gangs formed like the Killjoys who promised to help bring down BLi.

They’re not just zone runners, trying to live a quiet life in the desert. They’re not motrobabies or crash queens, dedicated to living life on the race tracks and not bothering with a war. They’re becoming killjoys now.

The people are succeeding.

And the Killjoys are the spark to a flame that will hopefully outlive them.

Who said immortality meant never dying?

-

They move around pretty frequently those last few months before the end of the Analog Wars. Sometimes they hide out at Dr. D’s radio station, which for some reason, has never been compromised. Kyle thinks Dr. D magically repels them. Ani-Max thinks the radio shack looks so rundown people wouldn’t think to bother checking for life in there.

Helena’s not entirely sure which one is right, or if they’re both right.

In any case, they move around frequently. There’s plenty of buildings still somehow standing (or… slouching) in the aftermath of the Helium wars, and they hide out there. If they’re lucky, they might find places that haven’t been looted out. They add to their aesthetics, changing up their looks, but over all remaining pretty similar.

They keep together and keep close contact with Dr. D, who happily sends them on more and more missions of escalating difficulty and severity.

Helena’s been struggling for a little while. They’re breaking into Battery City now, and they’ve killed a couple of civilians working in pill factories and such. She knows the only other person who would feel regret for that action would be Mike, but she hasn’t told them that she and Kyle killed three civilians in their last mission.

Morality is grey in the desert, she knows this. They’re not perfect, they’re not saviours, they’re not heroes. They’re just a bunch of barely twenty year olds stumbling around in this world, trying to do some good. Mistakes will be made, but these are the sort of mistakes that linger, that can’t be erased, that are permanent.

Show Pony is teaching them how to play strip poker. Kyle is losing, terribly, nearly completely ass naked. Ani-Max isn’t doing much better, but he’s still trying to make a comeback. Monster is winning and is thus far putting on every article of clothing she procures from the others. Red, Blue, and Mike are chatting with Dr. D in the next room. Show Pony is sadly lending Monster their helmet as they lose this round.

“You’re a heart attack in black hair dye,” they state, placing the helmet on her head and flipping it closed.

“Helena?”

She glances up to see Cherri Cola standing over her. She started to play with them, but eventually got phased out of the game as it became more and more clear that she was distracted. Cherri had been writing poetry for his next segment on the poetry corner, but now had her full attention.

“Huh? What’s up?”

“Come with me.” He offers her a hand. “I want to take you somewhere.”

Cherri Cola hasn’t changed much in all the years she’s known him. He’s gentle and quiet but has a mean wit if he gets pressed enough. He hasn’t touched a gun since the end of the Helium Wars and hopes to keep it that was. He’s a pacifist, and he has her total trust.

“Sure thing.” She takes his hand.

Cherri and her take his truck, some worn down blue thing that’s seen better days. It chugs along at a pretty slow speed, but perhaps she’s become accustomed to Ani-Max gunning it down the roads at breakneck speeds. It’s about a thirty minute drive, and they spend it in silence, but it’s not awkward. Cherri Cola’s a great companion, even when there’s nothing spoken between them.

Suddenly, the car jerks to a stop.

Helena glances out the window.

A tree shimmering like the few stars in the sky stands right before her. A joshua tree, ancient and struggling under the weight of so many silver necklaces looms. The moon’s fragile light is reflected from the dog tags that gleam, spreading the light about in strange beams.

“Why are we here?”

Cherri fiddles with his dog tags, wrapped around his neck. Helena unconsciously touched hers. Despite the fact that she wishes she could forget everything that happened in those years of serving, she still keeps those dog tags. It’s to remind her of what not to become, of what not to do, ever again. She swears these Analog Wars won’t be a repeat.

“You know, you’re not a soldier anymore.”

His eyes are trained on the tree. She listens to his every word.

“Kyle told me about the civilians you both killed. He didn’t think much of it, but I know you do.” He glances back at her. “That’s good. Kyle, Ani-Max, and even Dr. D and all them- they’ve been serving for far too long. Human life isn’t so precious as it is to you and me. If they’re on the wrong side, then they chose to be, then they’re just as evil as what we’re fighting, then they’re just as inhuman. War can corrode even the nicest of people.”

He reaches up and touches one of the lower hanging dog tags. It's old and raided and the string attached is rusted. “I know you’re upset. And I’m glad you are. And you should be too. It hurts to do terrible things, it hurts to make those mistakes, but as long as it still hurts, you know you’re doing something right.”

He lets go of the dog tag. “You can make mistakes, Helena. Everyone does. Everyone will. People aren’t perfect. Everyone’s insides aren’t pretty. Everyone of us has done something we regret. But it’s important that you regret it. Understand?”

She nods.

“Good.” He begins to unclip the dog tags from his neck. He holds them up, watching the moonlight bounce off them. “You’re not a soldier anymore. You can question every order and mission Dr. D gives you. You can think for yourself. Dr. D is trying to be a good man, but he’s also trying to run a rebellion. He isn’t perfect. Don’t be afraid to call him out.”

He quietly hangs the dog tags next to the ones he touched earlier. “Don’t forget what you’ve done. You have to learn from your mistakes. But don’t be afraid to let go.”

He glances back at her. “The future is bulletproof. It’s yours. You can always change it.”

He moves past her, heading towards the truck. He lets out a small yawn and claps a hand on her shoulder. “Now, let’s head back. Show Pony wants to try a new convocation of theirs, and well, I want to see how it ends.”

-

Helena goes on more missions. She listens to Dr. D’s plans, watches as the intended casualties rise in numbers.

She begins to understand Cherri Cola’s words.

She uses her voice every time she opens her mouth, everytime the music nearly drowns her out. She makes a choice, and she knows Dr. D isn’t keen on her speaking out against him, isn’t keen on having his flaws pointed out, but she has to make sure the past isn’t repeated.

-

Things are… changing.

She doesn’t notice a change, not a first. She ignores every ache in her bones, her swollen ankles, the way her stomach keeps knotting itself. She just thinks it’s the usual reaction to hard on the body missions, to standing all day, to the Power Pup.

It’s a gradual change, and it’s hard to notice things when they aren’t point blank. 

It doesn’t become a problem until one of the missions.

She’s becoming frequently more and more nauseous. She thinks it’s because of the fumes from the city, but even when they’re farther into the desert, she still has these weird waves of wanting to vomit. It comes at all times of the day, but mostly in the morning, and she still can’t figure out the source.

They’re in the city, trying to blow up part of Battery City’s main headquarters. They don’t have the resources nore the time to blow the whole thing skyhigh, so they’re trying to destroy the chamber where exterminator pills are made. 

It’s a huge, convoluted mission. Show Pony is inside the building, acting as a security guard. They’ve been sending them as much information as they can glean, like Drac and exterminator schedules and places the Director frequents.

For the most part, it’s pretty easy to get inside. BLi likes to tout itself as impenetrable, but really, they’re completely hinged on the idea no one’s stupid enough to try to break into the fascility that doubles as their main headquarters and is located in the center of the city. Unfortunately, the Killjoys are.

They sneak in as Dracs, managing to mimic the schedule thanks to Show Pony. It’s easy to memorize, which explains why so many Dracs are able to do it. So all seven of them bust into the facility and spread out to cover more areas and keep the others informed of what's happening in other areas.

Ani-Max and Monster split towards the center lobby. If something goes wrong, they’re going to act as the distraction, leading Dracs away from Helena and Kyle, who are going to set up the bomb in the exterminator pill lab. Code Red, Code Blue, and Mike are heading towards where the prisoners are located, which is the room before the laboratory. They’re trying to free as many people as possible while also remaining a distraction for Helena and Kyle.

They manage to slip through the cracks of BLi’s fingers. Mike and Blue and Red stay stationed in the prisoner area and she can already hear Mike consoul a younger, captured rebel. It makes her heart stir at the idea of what BLi could have done to these people, but she continues on with Kyle.

The straight truth is this- Kyle can’t shoot for shit. He’s better than Show Pony, but that’s a low bar, because everyone is better than Show Pony, who still sometimes gets confused over which end to point at the enemy. But Kyle has awful aim, so Helena’s there to act as a lookout and to provide him cover while he works.

Ani-Max made the bomb, and Kyle’s rigging it as fast as they can. The faster they get done, the quicker they can help Mike, Red, and Blue release prisoners and get the hell out of Battery City.

But then something happens, while Kyle is rewiring the system.

Dracs arrive in the lab. Led by Korse.

They won’t learn this until much later, but apparently, the Director recognised there was something off with the group of seven Dracs coming back from their perimeter check around the HQ. She sent a squad by Korse to keep an eye on them, in case it was an undercover mission, or the Dracs needed to be reprogrammed. 

And lo and behold, Korse finds them there, unmasked, with a bomb at their fingertips.

Pictures speak a thousand words, and Korse doesn’t even have to question them. Lasers burn through the air before Helena and Kyle can even think of a cover story. 

Helena jerks to action. She manages to snag a couple of them, but alarms are beginning to balare, and she knows there’s about to be a storm. Korse is on his radio, and she can hear the static voice of Show Pony saying there’s an altercation between two Dracs breaking out on floor one.

Red lights are flashing brightly, and she’s beginning to feel a bit disjointed. She hides behind a table before sending off a few rounds. They hit two Dracs square on, and she knows they’re down for the count. Korse is watching, pretending to be aloof, but she knows he’s waiting for the perfect opportunity.

Suddenly, a wave of nausea slaps her in the face. She stumbles and moves back to hide under the table. 

“We’re set to go!” Kyle cries. “We need to fucking split, now!”

Her stomach feels like it’s trying to eat itself. Kyle is on the other side of the room, desperately shooting off some Dracs who have gotten dangerously close. He’s not hitting them much, and she knows she needs to get her act together or Kyle is going to get fucking fried.

And that’s when she throws up.

It’s not the first time she’s done that. Back in the Helium War, when she killed a man for the first time. Or when she saw the faces of children behind her gun. Or when there was a particularly nasty and spoiled ration that fucked up her stomach. Hell, she’s been doing it for a good week now, convinced she’s gotten a bit of food poisoning from that last can of Power Pup.

Still, it burns her throat and it leaves her open. She tries to make it quick and brush it off, but more starts to come up, and she’s hurling behind a table in the middle of a fucking warzone.

“Helena!”

There’s a pressure applied to her head, and she becomes aware that she’s just been kicked in the fucking head when she finds herself recoiling into the wall next to her. Korse has a gun aimed straight at her head, and there’s a smug smile on his face as electricity buzzes.

She throws up a bit on his shoe, which wipes away the smile on his face. “That’s a stain I don;t think you’ll be able to wash out, huh?”

Korse moves his foot and it connects to her chin. She feels a tooth get knocked loose in her jaw, and she spits blood at his pant leg. “Well, are you gonna shoot me?”

“With pleasure.” There’s a pause, as his eyes begin to roam her. She feels oddly scrutinized, and his gaze stops at her stomach. “Both of you.”

Suddenly, before he can pull the trigger, he jerks away from her. His jacket is smouldering, and Helena sees Kyle pointing a gun aimed at Korse. She smiles and begins to move as quickly as she can manage away from Korse, who manages to recover pretty fast. The man doesn’t feel much pain anymore. 

She sends a barrage of gunshots his way, and manages to nick his neck. Blood stains his frilled shirt, and she smiles at him before fleeing into the next room where Mike, Red, and Blue are waiting for her.

-

The next few weeks pass by. Helena is struggling.

There’s a perpetual ache in her bones now. She feels so fucking tired all the time, and there’s been a couple of days she’s just spent in bed. Mike’s beginning to fret over her in their quiet way, but she shoos them away.

Her nausea is increasing, and every morning, she wakes up with the need to vomit. Mike isn’t exactly a hard sleeper, but she’s getting better and better untangling from their arms and hurling her dinner quietly enough to not disturb them.

It’s just a small zone flu. It’s nothing to be concerned about, and she doesn’t want Mike to be more stressed than they have to be. There’s enough on their plate as it is, living life as Killjoys. 

The symptoms keep getting weirder, though. 

She’s getting the worst cramps she’s experienced in years. She’s also becoming steadily more and more irritated, snapping at all of her peers for the dumbest of things. She apologizes, but her irritation levels are through the roof, and every one is beginning to avoid her. She doesn’t blame them.

She would blame this on her period, but she’s missed about two, now. It’s not really all that uncommon, but with the added stress of having the zone flu, she’s a little worried now. Not enough to call attention to her, but enough to be concerned over what the fukck her body is doing.

It doesn’t really feel like she’s sick. This isn’t anything like a cold or the flu or even that time she caught a bad case of strep throat. This doesn’t feel like a normal sickness, but, well, viruses can mutate, so maybe it’s just an intenze and weird form of the zone flu. She’s not a doctor, after all.

-

The symptoms keep getting worse. She decides to duck out of a few missions they all decide to take on, which does call for some suspicion, but she passes off that she has the zone flu, which seems to put everyone on ease. Mike is still worried about leaving her behind on missions, but she manages to convince them to leave.

“What’s on your mind, Mike?”

They’re sitting on the roof of some old gas station that got pilfered during the start of the wars. Still, it has walls and a roof, so it’s home as far as they’re concerned.

Mike huffs and turns to face her. They look so fucking tired, and she feels bad for keeping secrets and for worrying them, but she doesn’t want them anymore stressed than what they are. If she has some sort of incurable disease, well, she doesn’t want them going through the grief of trying to find a cure and refusing to believe there isn’t one. She knows they’d go through hell and back to keep her safe and happy, and she’d do the saem.

“You just…” They sigh. “I don’t want to leave you all alone while you’re sick like this. I… you don’t need protection, but I just…”

“You don’t like that you can’t protect me.”

“Exactly…” They run their fingers through their hair. Their roots are starting to show, and she knows they’ve been too stressed to re-dye their hair. “I’m just…”

They lean into her. They don't look at her, keeping themself out of her view. It’s the little things she notices, the way they always keep their face hidden before whispering a small secret to her. They don’t want their weakness perceived, and even after all this time, it’s still so hard for them. 

She runs her fingers through their hair before drifting towards their hand, quietly rubbing circles on the back of their hand. It’s quiet for a few seconds as Mike begins to mull over what they’re going to say next. 

“I’m…. I’m scared, Helena.” It’s so, so soft. “Our time is so limited, and I just don’t want to not be there when you need me. I want to spend as much time as I can with you, and if you’re all alone and sick, so much can happen, and I just… I’m scared.”

“Take my hand,” Helena whispers. Soundlessly, Mike laces their fingers together, keeping their face buried in her neck as they do so. “You’ll never be fucking afraid again. Not when I’m right by your side. I promise.”

She looks up at the sky, scanning the small amount of stars still shining as they further their embrace. It’s faded and barely visible, but the demolition lovers still blink overhead, steadfast and impermeable in their forever love. “I’m always by your side, Mike. I’ll be fine, I promise you. I won’t go down unless I’m ending my days with you in a hail of bullets.”

“I just… I’m just trying to let you know just how much you mean to me.”

“If you’re really worried, I’ll make Kyle stay here with me.” She laughs. “He’s a shit shot, so I don’t think he’ll be much help, anyway. So stop being such a party poison.”

She can feel Mike smile into her neck. She pulls away from them, forcing them to look at her. Quietly, she unclaps the chain around her necks and shoves her dog tags at them. Mike blinks at her, curious, but takes them.

“So I can always be by your side,” she explains, almost shyly. “You know, a good luck charm or something.”

Mike begins to unclasp their dog tags, but she stops them. “I’m staying here, hun. There’s plenty of your things to remind me of you.” She laughs. Truth be, she doesn't need those dog tags anymore. She knows what she’s fighting for now, knows not to forget her mistakes, and has a reminder to stay a good reason right in front of her. 

“Alright, alright. Just stay safe, love.”

She kisses their nose. “You do the same.”

-

Mike, Red, Blue, Ani-Max, and Monster disappear for their next mission early in the morning. Monster’s been going on more and more missions, much to her excitement. She’s not allowed to shoot yet, but she’ll take every slice of action she can take.

Which leaves Kyle and Helena alone together.

It’s not bad. They pass the time by swapping stories, and Helena gets to learn a bit more about Kyle, and vice versa. It’s a nice few hours of alone time, and it helps subdue her small anxiety over her teammates. 

They’re capable and smart and very, very dangerous. But she knows Korse has a death warrant out for all of them, and has his eyes set on killing them all himself. She knows they’ll be fine, but there’s a few claws scratching under her skin, making her a bit anxious.

“So yeah, that’s how Monster got her nickname!” Kyle finishes. “She’s always been a bitch.”

Helena’s laughing, hard. She feels like the stitches on her side from a bad clap on Route Guano might just burst. Kyle might not be the smartest, but he's the best at telling stories. There’s a certain way he talks, describing things in a strange level of detail with almost not enough but also too much context that makes everything work together.

Her stomach suddenly begins to knot itself, and she quietly excuses herself out of the gas station. After a few minutes of upheaving everything she’s ever ate, she comes back inside and sits down across for Kyle on the pile of blankets. They’ve made a small little blanket fort while the others are away.

Kyle’s watching her with a strange expression, and she has a feeling there’s cogs spinning in his head. Uh oh.

“You know,” Kyle begins. “This sickness you have doesn’t really remind me of zone flu. It reminds me of something my mom had.”

“Oh?” Shit, Kyle might know what the fuck is wrong with her?

“Yeah. You know, when my mom was pregnant with Monster, she experienced a lot of the same things as you.” He shrugs. “I was nine at the time, so I remember it pretty well.”

“What was she sick with?”

Kyle looks at her, as if trying to see if she was serious. When she tried her best to give him the impression that it was a genuine question, he suddenly began to laugh. She watches as he leans back against the wall and starts to keel over in peels of laughter.

“Hey, what’s so funny? Kyle?”

The laughter begins to taper off, and he watches her again. The laughter in his eyes begins to get replaced with something a bit more somber. “Ah, you and Mike, you’re both still a bit younger than me. I know the education system was slowly getting away from things they thought were, uh, unimportant, and I guess they completely got rid of health classes when they got to you?”

She frowns, not understanding his thought process. “Yeah. But Mike and me and a lot of other kids were also working a bunch, so we couldn’t really care all that much about school. But yeah, there wasn’t much in the way of health classes.”

“So like, what kind of sex education did you get?”

“Kyle!”

“No, this is a genuine question.” He’s watching her curiously. “Did they ever teach you about pregnancy? Anything about sex?”

“Not really? Just like, that sex was bad and we should abstain until marriage. The usual garbage. But we didn’t learn anything about pregnancy.” She frowns at him. “Kyle, you’re kind of freaking me out. What’s your endgame?”

“Helena, what I was trying to say was this: you’re pregnant.”

The world seems to freeze with those two words. Pregnant. 

She’s pregnant.

“No, no.” She shakes her head. “No, I’m not. I can’t be. Dude, it’ been a long time, your memories are probably all fucked up.”

“Helena.”

He takes her hand. It’s such a tender thing to do, and it almost makes her cry. He just holds her hand, and quietly begins to speak. “I watched my mom go through all the same things as you. Nausea? Moodiness? Cramps? Fatigue?”

She nods her head. He pats her hand and lets go. “Helena, you’re pregnant. Look, you’re even starting to show a little.”

He places a hand on her stomach. God, she didn’t even notice she had begun to gain weight. How has nobody else noticed?

They don’t know the signs like Kyle does.

“Man, I always wanted to be an uncle.” Kyle smiles at her, bright. “I mean, I didn’t think Monster would ever marry. She’s so fucking annoying. But I also don’t think she’s really into that kind of thing, like romance and stuff. But...”

Helena shakes her head. “Kyle, I can’t have a fucking baby.”

“What, why not?”

“Look at where we live.” She waves a hand at the abandoned gas station. “Look at where Mike and Blue and Red and everyone is. We are living in the midst of another fucking war, Kyle. I refuse to bring in a child during this. We can’t provide for them, we can’t love them, we can’t give them everything they need. We’re trying to lead a revolution.”

She chokes, her eyes blurring with tears. “Kyle, I can’t fucking have a child. Don’t you understand?”

“Then what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know!”

She’s crying now, sobbing. Tears are streaming down her cheeks and she curls into a ball, burying her face into her hands. “I can’t have this kid. Or, at least, we can’t keep them. We’ll have to, like, give them away. Maybe to a nice neutral family or something. I don’t want them to spend their years with us only to starve and be put in constant danger. We have targets on our back, and if we have a kid, they’re going to be so fucked. Korse will stop at nothing to hurt us, and he won’t hesitate to kill a small child.”

Kyle pulls her into his chest. She breaks off and starts to cry, tiredly. He runs his fingers through her tangled and curled hair, trying to offer her some meagre amount of comfort. It’s soothing, and it does make her feel a little better, but she’s still so fucking overwhelmed.

“It’s okay.” Kyle keeps his voice soft. “You know? You don’t have to have the answer for everything right now. Are you going to tell Mike?”

“Not now. Not… I need to process this more.”

“I won’t say a word.” He mimes a zipper with his lips. “But can I ask a question?”

“Speak.”

“What are you gonna name them?”

Helena sighs. She’s thought about having a kid before, maybe after they destroy BLi. But she figured she’d be older than fucking twenty. She figured it wouldn’t be until a long time. 

“I always liked the name Joan.”

“You think it’ll be a girl?”

“They can be anything they want.” She’s thinking specifically of Mike in that moment, and her heart clenches. “But yeah, I think she’ll be a girl.”

Kyle keeps a tight hold around her. “I’d love to have a little niece. I bet she’ll be just as pretty and smart and kind and sweet as… Mike.”

That gets a snort out of Helena. “Any of my qualities?”

“Hopefully not.”

She places a hand on her stomach. “She’ll be better than any of us. I can promise that.”

-

Helena doesn’t really want a kid. Not now, not until the war is over and she and Mike and all of her friends are safe and sound and are living quiet, stable lives. Honestly, she figured she’d die way too young to ever even have a child.

But here she is, about to fucking have a kid, and she doesn’t know how to feel.

Mostly, it was just fear. Fear for her life, fear for her child, fear for Mike and their reaction. Fear about what will happen, what they’ll have to do with their kid, what they’ll do. The future is intangible and ever changing and it frightens her that she doesn’t have a good answer for what she’ll do with her child.

Slowly, she admittedly begins to feel a little attached to her child. Ideally, she would like to keep them. She doesn’t want to just hand them off to some nice looking stranger, but she doesn’t want them to spend their first years knowing nothing but strife.

She wants to give them everything she has, but she has absolutely nothing to offer. Nothing but war and blood and sand. She can’t provide a home nor proper food or love. She doesn’t want to birth this kid in the middle of a war and raise them in such an environment.

But god, she doesn’t want to give them up.

She needs to let Mike know. She needs to let everyone know. Maybe they all can come up with a good solution or something. More heads are better, and she really needs help.

But, well, Mike’s birthday is about to happen, and maybe she can surprise them with this. After all, there’s not really a way to get a good birthday gift, and they’re about to turn twenty, so she thinks this’ll be a good gift, a nice surprise.

She knows Mike’s always wanted a family. Maybe a little farther in the future, but Mike loves children. They respect her boundaries and they’d be fine with a life with no children, but she knows they’d like to be a parent. Hearing they’re going to have a child is going to either be the best thing they’ve ever heard or the worst.

March is already here. Just a few more weeks, and she’ll tell them. She’ll tell them all, and they can figure out a plan. Maybe they can even keep them.

She places a hand on her stomach, then laces her fingers with Mike’s. Mike, even asleep and unconscious, meets her halfway and holds her hand right back. The demolition lovers are almost invisible in the sky, but she can still find them.

Their love still pervades though against all odds. 

It makes her heart flutter at the sight, while she lays next to the love of her life on the roof of an abandoned building.

They have a shot.

-

March 21st, 2013.

Aka, the day before Mike Milligram’s 20th birthday. Aka, the worst fucking day of the Killjoys life. Aka, the Disaster on Dreams Boulevard. Aka, the death of the era of the Killjoys. Aka, the end of the Analog wars.

It’s their own damn fault, really. They should have moved out from the gas station eons ago, but they were too lazy to go scouting for a new home. It was nice to have a tangible, stable home in their life, and they got too attached.

They get found by a group of Dracs, and of course, it’s an entire patrol, so that means there’s three exterminators, several vans of Dracs, and the lead exterminator happened to be Korse. Which basically means, all odds were against them from the fucking start.

They were caught off guard, and that’s the key element to this raid that fucks them all over. Monster was playing Mad Gear and the Missile Kid way too loudly, rattling the thin walls of the small building. They didn’t hear the roar of the engines until it was way too late, until Dracs were already bursting into the station.

It’s not a fair fight. Helena knew waging this war against a megacorporation, who has bodies and resources to spare, wouldn’t mean it’d be a fair one. Still, it’s almost annoying to see how badly they’re outmatched against this army of Dracs.

Usually, when things get too intense, they try to flee. Ani-Max knows how to shake the Dracs off their trails, but right now, they’re way too caught off guard to formulate a proper plan, and the Dracs have already begun to split them up, picking them apart from each other like vultures pecking at bones.

Ani-Max and Mike are off to her far right, Red and Blue straight in front of her, and Monster and Kyle are on her left. They’re all surrounded by Dracs, trying to fight as many as they can, taking down as many as they can, until there’s an inevitable slip up and they come crashing down like dominos. She’s left to her own devices, trying to stop her own swarm that’s picking a fight with her.

The exterminators have split up. There’s one headed straight towards Mike and Ani-Max, and the other is aiming for Code Red and Blue. The third one, Korse, is lurking on the side lines, but everytime she glances up to find him, she notices he seems to be getting closer and closer towards her.

It’s a long fucking firefight, and she’s pretty proud of how much time they manage to eat up. But the surprise of this fight was a fatal mistake, and it soon comes to bite them all in the ass, hard, when the second mistake occurs that leads to a domino effect.

There’s a shot that seems almost louder than the others. Helena risks it all, turning to glance at the source and the outcome. The one rule of war was to not get distracted by your peers, to not let their downfall lead to your own. But Helena can’t stop herself from looking.

Kyle is on the ground, smoke pouring from his chest. She doesn’t need to get closer to see his eyes, vacant and stained, to know he’s dead. Monster is screaming at the top of her lungs now, and she’s grabbed hold of Kyle’s bright red gun, firing frantically at the storm of white that’s suffocating her.

It doesn’t take long for the Dracs to take her down, either. But it does take quite a few shots. Helena counts them like she’s counting sheep, watching as lasers scorch her friend into char right before her eyes. Seven fucking shots, three in the back, four square in the chest. An eighth one grazes her arm.

There’s a shriek to her right. Ani-Max is breaking away from Mike, moving quickly towards the two charred corpses of their friends. He’s moving frantically, shooting frantically, and it costs him easily. The Dracs pick him off while he’s too busy trying to get towards Kyle and Monster, and while Ani-Max manages to send off a few rounds, he goes crumpling to the ground along with some Dracs.

Shit, half their crew is fucking dead. Gone, ghosted, dusted in barely a handful of seconds. Helena keeps her eyes away from the smoking bodies of her peers and focuses as best she can on the Dracs in front of her. Oh god, they’re dead-

A barrage of shots, straight behind her. She flinches back and shoots the Dracs behind her, and gets privy to a haunting sight right before her eyes. The Dracs that had surrounded her and flanked her back weren’t the ones shooting.

Two exterminators were fighting tooth and nail against Blue and Red. Blue’s gun was kicked to the ground a few feet away, and Blue was doing her best at fighting hand to hand while also chasing off bullets her way. Red was desperately trying to cover both of them, and Helena knew that she wouldn’t be enough. Helena was too far away to be able to pick off any of the exterminators, and the seconds began to trickle until Blue made a mistake.

The exterminator managed to fake her out, and that little trip up cost Blue everything. The thrum of electricity drowned out the calls of the crows as a shot nails Blue straight in the heart. Blue goes flailing to the ground, and Red begins to let loose, completely blindsided by the death of her girlfriend. The two exterminators aren’t afraid to exploit that, and Code Red finds herself just as dead as Blue.

She collapses right next to Blue, and in her dying breaths, Helena watches Red lace their fingers together before going still, her gun clattering to the ground beside her.

Watching her friends die was a huge mistake, in a lot of different aspects. But tactically, it was the worst mistake she’s made in this battle, and stopping to stare costs her. 

Korse decides to strike while she’s low.

A shot to her lower back causes her to stumble, and the Dracs don’t hesitate to use that to their advantage. One kicks her in the head, and when she tries to turn around and face Korse, another grabs her arm that she shoots with. She switches hands and shoots at Korse. The blood cascading down her face slightly blocked her sight.

She manages to nick Korse in the ribs, but it doesn’t do as much damage as she’d like. Korse staggers but otherwise keeps moving towards her, and shoots straight at the arm she’s shooting with. She tries to dodge, but that Drac is still holding on tight and there’s more encircling her, so the laser manages to land true.

The gun falls out of her hand, and oh shit, she’s absolutely fucked.

Dracs surround her and begin to grab on. Three in particular make sure to grab her arms and hold her up. She tries to kick and bite and flail but these Dracs have a tight grip and a different, fourth Dracs hits her in the head with his gun, dazing her a bit.

Korse is suddenly inches away from her. She’s aware enough to know that that’s a bad thing, and she growls at him as best she can. Korse openly laughs at her and flicks her nose almost endearingly. She spits at him again, making sure to get her blood on his nice, pristine shirt.

“Oh, stop struggling,” Korse chides, twirling his gun almost absently. “There’s no point anymore. This war is over.”

“You can kill me and my entire crew but you can’t kill an ideal. They’ll carry on, though we’re dead and gone. They’ll fight.”

“And we’ll kill them all.” Korse says it like a fact, like he’s seen it happens and knows it will happen again. He glances to the side, a smug smile curls his lips. “But now, there’s nothing for you to fight for anymore.”

Helena knows she shouldn’t look, knows she’s going to regret it, knows she shouldn’t let her guard down, but she still looks. Curiosity kills the cat, and satisfaction isn’t going to bring back the life of the last person she held dear to her heart.

Mike is surrounded on all sides. The two exterminators are pushing them further and further back into the group of Dracs. Honestly, its a fucking miracle Mike’s managed to survive for so long on their own, and she knows their luck is about to run out.

A Drac scores a lucky hit. It singes the back of Mike’s knee, and it’s enough of a distraction for the exterminators. They fire simultaneously and Mike goes sprawling onto the desert floor, blood staining the sand a deep scarlet. Their yellow gun that they spent so much fucking time painting falls out of their limp grasp, and she knows.

Mike Milligram is dead.

She screams when those shots are fired, when the electricity pierces Mike’s skin, when Mike begins to sink to the desert floor. Her last piece of family, the last person she’s ever loved is now fucking dead, killed right before her eyes. The corpses of her friends have collected on the floor of the desert, and there’s not a place she can look where a corpse won’t pervade her vision.

She turns her head away from the sight, trying to choke down the sobs in her throat, squeezing her eyes shut tight. Korse will not see her cry, will not see her fucking breakdown right infront of him.

Korse grabs her chin and forces her head back towards the sight of Mike’s dead body. “Well, look at that. Everything you’ve ever loved, gone just like that. How pathetic.”

“Just shoot me,” she bites out, a deep burning rage coursing through her veins. Korse has no right to taunt her, no right to speak of love, no fucking right to even look at Mike, to even look at her friends. 

“Oh, I’m not going to do that.” He glances at her, a fang filled smile flashing before her eyes. “No, but you’ll wish I did.”

He snaps his fingers. A fifth Drac appears from her right, and she sees what’s in its hands.

A Drac mask.

Her eyes widened at the sight. She knows what this fucking means, knows exactly the unspoken plan of Korse’s. She’d rather be shot dead, right here, right now, then have that cursed thing over her face. She would rather die a thousand deaths than become BLi’s happy, complacent toy soldier ever again.

“Shoot me,” she demands. She’s not begging, no, she’s ordering him.

“Don’t worry,” he pats her cheek, and she spits at him again. He has no right to touch her. “You’re going to be where you belong, you’re going to become what you were meant to be. You’re going to be a soldier again, just like you were always meant to be. You were made for war, Helena Milligram. And your country is calling for you.”

Helena struggles even more under the Dracs hold. She gazes up at the stars, searching for the demolition lovers. The stars have all faded, though, and she can’t find it no matter how hard she looks. 

When Helena wrestled within the confines of those three Dracs, when she gazed across the battlefield to find her beautiful partner laying in a bloodied mess, completely limp, when that Drac mask was inches from her head, there were a lot of things she didn't know.

Firstly, she didn’t know that the child growing within her is about to take on the full brunt of the emotions the mask is about to suppress. She doesn’t realise she’s about to create a ticking time bomb. She doesn’t know how much power her child is about to absorb.

Secondly, she didn’t realise that she was going to outlive the love of her life. She didn’t realise that she was going to survive as a Drac for fifteen years. She didn’t realise that she would be able to meet her child.

Thirdly, she didn’t know that this point in her life, that very moment, was going to become the domino that would lead to the crumbling of BLi. She didn’t know that her capture was going to be the very first event that would lead to the downfall of BLi. She didn’t realise how many lives she would connect from that very moment.

There was only one thing she knew in this moment, there was only one thing she felt as the Drac mask was roughly shoved over her face, just before her vision became filled with monsters of the imaginary yet all too real kind. 

There was only one emotion she felt, one that BLi would never be able to strip away from her, one that will turn her child into the ticking time bomb necessary to blow BLi into smithereens.

She felt only _rage_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’ll give u a timeline next chapter
> 
> anyway until national anthem comes out or if i don’t like it THIS is canon thank u


End file.
